Rising From the Darkness
by poe1911
Summary: NCIS gets a new probie. Hopefully Washington will survive.
1. Chapter 1

A/N This is a Xandercentric story. There is really no bashing in here, so if that's what you're looking for, look somewhere else. I have no claim on either BTVS or NCIS.

You Darkness

Rupert Giles was apprehensive, this was unusual. As the head of a multinational organization that specialized in combating demons and had existed for millennia, there were not many things that worried him. To be sure, apocalypse season could be trying, but as the years had gone by the New Council had become more and more proficient in dealing with such situations. He smiled grimly, practice did indeed make perfect; and the Council had had a lot of practice in saving the world. There had been some governments that had kicked up a bit at all the new slayers, but several treaties and the full backing of the British and American governments smoothed things over nicely and brought the would be troublemakers to heel.

No, to make Rupert Giles nervous you needed something personal. Not dealing with him, but with the men and women who were his surrogate children. He had never thought that his life would end up this way. When he had been appointed to take Merrick's place, he had expected to be an active field watcher for a few years, and then retire to some sort of research post after his slayer was killed; with plenty of time to start a family once he was away from the hurly-burly of field work. There had always been the lurking possibility of dying at his Slayer's side, but he knew that as a Watcher, he would most likely outlive his Slayer. But Buffy had not died, and as the years passed Rupert Giles had found himself as the defacto parent for not only his Slayer, but her sister and friends as well. Then the Council had manage to get itself blown to Kingdom Come and the idea of retirement had gone right out the window because he was needed to head up the reincarnation of that organization. So now he found himself entering the twilight of his life with a family that he'd never imagined in his wildest dreams, but dealing with that family sometimes meant that you had to step lightly and this was one of those times.

He needed to talk to Xander; actually he needed to pull him out of the field. Giles knew that it would take a lot of fast talking to get the young man to even listen past the first few minutes, but Giles was convinced that it was necessary for several reasons. The most important was that Xander scared him now. The young man never seemed to joke or quip, something unheard of before the fall of Sunnydale. He was focused on the mission and only that, with no life outside of the slaying. And, if rumors were true; he was beginning to show an almost amoral streak that reminded Giles too much of his time as Ripper. Indeed, Xander had a fearsome reputation now; one that Giles was sure Buffy, Willow and Dawn were not aware of because of how that reputation had been built. With a sigh, Giles punched the intercom on his desk. "Would you ask him to come in please," and then he sat back to observe.

He watched silently as Xander stalked in, there was no other word for it. His posture was aggressive and overtly threatening, something Giles hadn't seen from him since the Hyena days. "Giles," he muttered as he dropped into one of the chairs, his aggression unchanged despite the fact that he was now sitting.

"Alexander, I appreciate you coming."

"You are my boss, you ask for me to come and here I am."

"We both know that if you truly didn't want to be here, you wouldn't be."

"Are you suggesting that I might ignore the wishes of the head of the Council," Xander asked, with a hint of a grin on his face.

"If you thought he was a daft prick or wrong about whatever the point was, then yes; in a heartbeat." In the privacy of his mind, Giles was turning cartwheels. Xander had actually joked, even smiled. That simple exchange had allayed Giles greatest fear, that Xander had looked into the abyss for too long. He now knew that it would be possible for Xander to become more like the person he had been those many years ago.

"Speaking from experience there Giles," Xander replied with a tight laugh.

"Sadly yes, as you well know." Giles' demeanor changed and he leaned forward. "Before we talk about why you are here, I need you to read these:" he gestured to a small pile of reports on the desk in front of him.

Intrigued, Xander dialed it back a bit and picked up the top report without comment. The different reports dealt with attempted kidnappings and the killing of slayers around the world. They were brief and Xander was soon done. "OK, what's the point, aside from the fact that all the bad guys were human," he asked as he tossed the last report onto Giles' desk.

"Yes, that aside; the point is that all of them built up until they were a threat to us, if we had been paying proper attention then we might have stopped them before they became an issue. We lost two slayers and four watchers, not counting those injured if we had known what to look for. This organization has been far too reactive, only acting once a certain threat level has been reached. I want us to start paying attention so that we deal with problems when they are small, not wait until they threaten our very existence. Think back for a moment Xander, if we had known about the mayor a year before his ascension then we could have done any number of things to prevent it and thus prevent the lives lost at graduation." Giles had used this example deliberately because he knew that the losses at graduation still haunted Xander. It was a low trick but one he was willing to use to get the younger man to think.

"You're talking proactive stuff there Giles, that's easy to abuse. I mean, once you start taking demons or people out because they could be a threat, then where does it stop. Honestly, if threat level was the only criteria then I should walk out of here right now and put a bullet in Willow's head."

"I am well aware of the moral ramifications of what you are talking about, but that is not the direction I wish to pursue."

"Then what is," Xander asked. He was intrigued now, for some time he had been suggesting taking a more proactive view but nothing had come of it here. In Africa, he had a little more leeway and had actually conducted offensive operations a couple of times. Hitting demon clans known for causing trouble before trouble was caused. Now it sounded like Giles wanted the entire Council to move in a similar direction.

"We, and by that I mean the field watchers; need to learn how to investigate. How to see a pattern developing before it becomes obvious. We need to learn how to see the threat before it becomes overt. Too often we get caught up in a game where our opponent is several moves ahead because we have been looking in the wrong direction. Too often in the past we have had to scramble to catch up, to determine who the players were and what they wanted and such rushing about causes mistakes and unnecessary losses. I want that to end."

"That's an interesting thought, how would you go about that," Xander asked, both intrigued and moved by the passion in Giles' voice.

"Three directions, the first is to start recruiting watchers from law enforcement and the military. Retirees would be acceptable because they wouldn't be doing field work only research. The second would be intelligence, we need to find or create consistent sources of information so that our researchers have something to mull over. Finally, we need to train someone currently in our organization and once they are proficient, have them sell the idea to our up and coming watchers, and then have this person lead the new section that deals with investigation and intelligence. That way the field watchers can know what to look for and filter that information back to our researchers. This would also give the people in the field more flexibility because the new group might be able to discern larger patterns than could be noticed on a local scale." Giles watched Xander closely as he said this, waiting for the penny to drop; waiting to see if Xander had caught the truly significant portion of his whole speech. When it did, the results were everything Giles expected.

Xander leapt out of his chair and leaned over the desk. "Oh hell no, I'm not about to start jockeying a desk or being a teacher just so everyone can finally get me 'fray adjacent'!"

Giles let him rant and rave for a few minutes, hiding a smile at the young man's more colorful metaphors. When it sounded like he was winding down a bit, Giles stood up and removed his glasses and placing them in his jacket pocket after giving the lenses a quick polish; metaphorically, Clark Kent had just stepped into a phone booth. Then he turned a rather amoral gaze at the young man and simply said, "sit down Alexander."

The tone in Giles voice hit every submission trigger in Xander's somewhat muddled psyche. With the soldier remnants, which easily recognized the tone of a pissed off superior; Xander abruptly sat down and shut his mouth. He was mentally kicking himself for letting loose like that. Giles was so pleasant and genial that it was easy to forget that Ripper was also floating around in there, just waiting to come out and play.

Again Giles fought to suppress a smile at Xander's immediate change; it was nice to know that he still had it. Not hinting at what was going on behind his eyes; Giles fixed his cold gaze on the man in front of him. "We will need someone to lead this new unit and you are the best candidate for that assignment, there is nothing more to it than that." He saw Xander was about to object and hurried on. "Willow, despite her considerable intelligence, doesn't have the instincts that you possess and would end up frustrated and then alienate nearly everyone working for her." Seeing the rebellion die in Xander's eye, Giles got back to the assignment. "Now, as to the particulars; there is a man whose family were watchers for generation, in fact his nephew is still with us; but he is a member of the type of team that we are looking to emulate. He obviously knows all about the dark and when given your personal details, felt as though you would be a good fit for the particular team in question. So next Monday, you are flying to Washington D.C. and will start work with the investigative team at the Naval Criminal Investigative Service. Do you have any questions?"

"Two at the moment," Xander replied calmly, still cowed by the presence of Ripper. "Who is my contact, first of all?"

"That would be a doctor Donald Mallard," Giles replied. "His cousin and I were friends for a while. I believe he is generally referred to as 'Ducky'."

"Cute," Xander shot back, but it lacked his usual enthusiasm. "The second is, how can I be in a military investigative team when I've never been in the military?"

"Neither have most of the people on the current team," Giles replied. "There is a former police officer a former member of Mosad, and their computer expert also writes rather half baked suspense novels."

"Great, so what do they think I am?"

"You are one of the ranking members of a United Nations sanctioned group that is looking to become a more efficient operation." He paused as Xander rolled his eye at the rather lame explanation. "I know it sounds both pretentious and false, however, it does have the rather unique distinction of being absolutely true. Now I know that you will be questioned about what it is that you do, but just stick to the usual cover story and don't worry. Willow and Riley have both assured me that any records that can be retrieved have no mention of what it is that we really do. Even their superior, a Director Vance does not know what the true function of the Council is. And you will keep it that way, won't you," Giles finished with a glare.

"I can't make any guarantees there Giles. I mean you're sticking me into a group of people that collectively are some of the best investigators that can be found. That means that they're smart and tenacious. It wouldn't surprise me if they found most of the details of my life including the stuff I try to hide on their own before they even tried talking to me about it. Folks like that are going to make connections."

"Indeed," Giles muttered. He was forced to admit that Xander had an excellent point. "Very well then; use your discretion, but please don't go volunteering information."

"That I can promise," Xander answered with a grin. "So, you got a breakdown on the folks I'll be working with?"

Giles replied by tossing a paperback copy of "Deep Six" by Thom E Gemcity into Xander's lap. "I'm told that most of the people you will be with are barely disguised characters in here," Giles said with a smile. "And when you are done with that I've got actual dossiers on the members, but the novel should give you a better feel for the various personalities."

"Great," Xander replied with distaste. "I'm gonna end up as a throwaway character in some crappy techno-thriller."

Leon Vance grimaced as he hung up the phone. He really didn't care for dealing with the upper echelons of the self important walking egos that ended up in Washington and now he'd just gotten off the phone having just been in a conference call with both the Secretary of Defense and the Secretary of State. It didn't help that he'd been told to do something he didn't like, and if he didn't like it, it was a sure thing that Gibbs was going to hate it. This caused another grimace because there were times that Vance was convinced that Gibbs really ran things around NCIS and that everyone else was really working for him. That thought didn't do much for Leon's ego, but it refused to go away. 'Well, no time like the present,' he thought and walked out of his office and looked over at the bull pen. "Gibbs, we need to talk; up here now." Normally Leon wasn't this abrupt, but he really didn't feel like debating his senior agent for half an hour in public. He quickly moved back into his office and sat behind his desk and waited for hurricane Gibbs to arrive.

It didn't take long. Gibbs burst into the office, without knocking as usual; and said, "what is it Leon," in an indifferent tone.

"You'll want to sit down for this Jethro."

"I'm fine," Gibbs muttered out.

"Trust me; you'll want to sit for this."

Gibbs started to sit when a thought occurred. "You're not gonna break up my team again are you Leon, we've been through this before."

"No Jethro, I'm not going to break your team up or even suggest it anymore."

"So why am I here?"

"Because for the next twelve months or so, your team is going to be bigger."

"What," Gibbs was confused now. He'd been set to argue with Leon about breaking the team up; he wasn't prepared for the shift in topics.

Director Vance tossed a rather thin folder across his desk. "Alexander Harris, he's one of the best field operatives for something called the NSWC and before you ask, I have no idea what it stands for. All anyone would say that it was a multinational organization that dealt with extreme situations. Anyway, we were asked to train this guy up as an investigator. Teach him what to look for and how to process information, that kind of thing; and as much as it pains me to say this, your team is the best I've got. So he's your problem for the next year."

"You could have said 'No' Leon," Gibbs muttered while thumbing through the file.

"When it's the Secretary of Defense doing the asking, well it really isn't asking," Vance replied with a smirk.

Gibbs froze, "Leon, this kid has a . . . ."

"Sealed file that is marked 'Top Secret' and code word protected," Vance finished. "I asked about that and was pretty much told that I didn't need to know."

"This kid isn't military, so how did he get a military file," Gibbs mused aloud.

"Check the dates," Vance suggested.

"What the . . ." Gibbs started. "This was sealed almost ten years ago, but the kid isn't even thirty yet. Who gets a sealed file when you're that young," Gibbs asked.

"Now that is a very good question," Vance said, then went back to his paperwork as Gibbs left the room.

Gibbs stalked into the Bullpen. It wasn't that he hated secrecy, it was just that he hated working with people that had serious secrets in their past; it generally meant trouble for him and his team. McGee looked up from whatever arcane thing he was doing with his computer and Dinozzo and David paused in their continual sniping at each other when he entered. "I've just been told that we're getting a probie," Gibbs noticed Dinozzo's look when he heard the term; "the guy's name is Alexander Harris and I want to know everything there is to know about him before he gets here tomorrow." He concluded by tossing the file on Ziva's desk and stalking away, he really needed some coffee right now.

Paste your document here...


	2. Powers and People

POWERS AND PEOPLE

Xander closed his copy of "Deep Six" and looked out the window as he thought. He was thinking that it would be worse than he had first imagined. From everything that he had read, these people were sharp and very savvy. They had connections both high and low and Xander had no doubt that a lot of the dirty laundry that he had accumulated over his ten years in Africa would be brought into play. He needed to come up with a way to either minimize what they found or lead them in the wrong direction or keep them off balance. It went without saying that exposure of the active slayers and watchers was the one thing he could not allow. So with that in mind, he started to scheme. Twenty minutes later, Penny Clemens, the stewardess for first class; went to ask the man in 2B if there was anything he needed. She walked away quickly with goosebumps rising on her arms, question unasked. The grin that had been on his face reminded her of Heath Ledger's incarnation of the Joker, that is to say equal parts demented and joyful. She pitied whoever had inspired that look on the young man's face.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

Tim McGee was not having a good day, nor had his night before been anything to write home about. It had seemed to be such a simple assignment, find out everything he could about one Alexander Lavelle Harris. McGee had a birthday a hometown and even a social security number; it should have taken 10 minutes and a couple of simple hacks to have the man's entire life at his fingertips. And he did, well up to a point at least. He had a copy of the birth certificate, Harris' elementary, middle and high school grades and disciplinary reports, job history, engagement notice, hospital reports, credit reports and purchases, the works; right up until 2003. Then the guy just seemed to fall right off the map. No credit card records, tax records or anything electronic. The one thing he did have post 2003 was an application for dual citizenship with the UK, but that was all, and McGee knew that Gibbs wanted more than that.

So McGee went digging in his own way and with one swing of his metaphorical shovel, found the Great Wall of China of firewalls. He'd never encountered anything remotely similar and before he could even think to get away, the damned thing's security went active and completely overwhelmed his system. In the end he had no control and no display beyond a screen asking for a password. Well, a simple enough fix for that, he just re-booted his system, but for some reason that didn't clear things up, there was just that damned password box. So he disconnected everything and completely shut down for 2 hours, and when he started up he used a copy of his old OS on a flash-drive rather than what was on the hard drive. But when it was all said and done, the only thing on his screen was that password box; but at least he had the enjoyment of watching his flash-drive melt. That was when he made his ultimate mistake. He told Abby all about it.

Now he was no closer to finding anything out about Alexander Harris and on top of it he had to stand there listening to Abby curse his very existence because her personal computer system was currently only functional as a paper-weight and somehow it was all his fault. A slow grin crept up his face as a thought occurred to him. Yes, Abby was pissed at him, and yes, Gibbs was going to rip him a new one; but it would be worth it to see what Abby would do to the new guy.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

Ziva David looked at the phone number at the bottom of the page with barely concealed loathing. It was a number that she would rather not call, but unfortunately every other potential source of information that she had ever made use of had come up empty. Ziva had no real idea as to who this Alexander Harris was, but he definitely made an impression. So far the response from all of her contacts fell into three distinct categories; those that had told her that there was nothing that they were willing to say, those that had told her that they were too afraid to say anything and those that had told her to make sure her health insurance was up to date. She looked down at her last source and with a grimace, picked up the phone and dialed.

"I expected your call half an hour ago daughter."

"I was double checking a few things," was her terse reply. She hated how he could make her feel like an awkward thirteen year old with just the tone of his voice.

"Indeed, well I must tell you that you are making dangerous inquiries. What is your interest in Alexander Harris?"

"He is being assigned to our team for a year to learn investigative techniques." Ziva was shocked to hear her father gasp aloud at this information; her father had such tight a control over his emotions that such a slip was significant. To Ziva it meant that this man scared even her father.

"I would tell you to leave there now but you would not," Eli David told his daughter. "Be very careful around this man Ziva, his reputation is terrifying and that is only based on what little we do know."

"So you have looked into him?"

"We have tried, but his agents are incredibly loyal to him so what little we get is second or third hand at best." There was a sigh, as Eli gave in even more to his emotions, "when you are dealing with him, remember that he has survived the last ten years criss-crossing Africa and that is no small feat. I would not hesitate to call him one of the most dangerous men in the world."

"I will remember father, is there anything that you can tell me about him or his organization?"

"I will send you what I can Ziva, but I require something in return."

"And that would be," Ziva asked through clenched teeth. Her own father was scared of this man but rather than simply give it to her so that she would be better prepared, he still used it to bargain.

"There was an incident in Gabon back in 2007. We have good reason to believe that Mr. Harris was involved but no direct proof. Find that proof if it exists."

"And why is this so important?"

"Because a man was killed. Not a very good man but a reliable man, one who had helped us over the years. I would know the truth about his death and who caused it."

Ziva knew that her father would eventually try to use this situation as a lever to get her back under some sort of control but knowing that the trap was there was half the job of avoiding it. "Very well Father, send me what you have and I will make . . . . inquiries." She hadn't even finished speaking when her fax machine started printing. She hung up the phone, missing her father's whispered, "be careful daughter." There was very little information in the file, but it was something.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

Tony DiNozzo wanted to get drunk, actually he desperately needed to get drunk. Because if he was drunk then he just might be able to forget all of the stuff that he had just learned. He's been striking out spectacularly in his effort to find out anything about Alexander Harris until he was talking Billy Wilson, an old buddy of his that was still in the Baltimore PD. In the course of the conversation, DiNozzo mentioned that the guy he was looking up grew up in Sunnydale California. Billy told him that they had a desk Sergeant who had transferred out from Sunnydale back in fall of 1999. Before he knew it, DiNozzo was talking with a Sergeant Tiller and after five minutes he was sitting down, after ten he just wanted to get drunk, then it got bad. Alexander Harris had been a person of interest in no less than One Hundred and Twenty Five homicides, muggings and disappearances. What really got to DiNozzo was that all of this occurred before the kid had finished High School. No convictions or even arrests, but still; to be suspected in over one hundred felonies before you're even twenty surely set some kind of record. Tony just sat back and stared at nothing as the tail end of the conversation played in his head again. "Did you ever get a chance to talk to him?"

"Nah, Sunnydale was a weird place; it was almost like two towns. During the day it was small town America, you know what I mean; domestic disputes, or where some idiot shoots a gun at the wrong time were about the worst we dealt with on the day shift. But the crazies just came out of the woodwork at night. We'd come in to find an unbelievable stack of reports to be filed, and they only covered the violent stuff."

"You ever take a turn at the night shift?"

"I wanted to, but the Chief discouraged it. He was all shift pride and that kind of thing so we never got the night shift bleeding over into first and we didn't play in their sandbox. It didn't make much sense to me but we were told it was some kind of psychological study that the mayor or one of the eggheads from the local college had gotten some government money to study, so we went along with it."

"So how did you know about Harris?"

"When I filed all those damn reports. You know how it is, if some skel is mentioned in a report you gotta put a note in his jacket, and Harris had one hell of a jacket. Him and a couple others were mentioned all the time, Willow Rosenberg and Buffy Summers. I remember thinking that you only find names like that in California."

DiNozzo wrote the two names down; he'd give em to McGeek later so the guy could chase em down. "Anyone else normally associated with Harris?"

"Yeah, the Librarian at the high school; guy named Rupert Giles. He was a British national with a valid green card. He was questioned in a couple of murders. One was another British national so the Bureau jumped on that one; the other was a teacher that was murdered in his apartment but he had an alibi for that one."

"You make it sound like bad things just follow these people."

"That's a good way to put it," Tiller agreed with a snort. "If this guy's gonna be on your team, I'd get a bullet proof vest."

Tony hung up soon after, but Tiller's last sentence stuck with him as he went to sleep.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

Ziva arrived early as she usually did, but today she wasn't the first team member there. She wanted to confirm some of the information on Harris that was in the Mosad's report, travel dates and such. She did this as a way of back checking, if whoever did the investigating got the minor details right then it was likely that the meat of the report was correct as well. She sat down her coffee and looked over at McGee. The younger man had the pieces of his laptop scattered around his desk and he was glaring at the mess as if his computer had betrayed him somehow. There was the brief sound of a drill and Ziva realized that someone else was there as well. She followed the sound to a nearby desk which had a work order lying on top, several tools, hardware and sheet-metal scattered around it and a pair of legs sticking out from under it. She checked to make sure that Vance's signature was on the thing then turned back to McGee, "what's that all about?"

"Huh," Tim replied, looking startled.

"McGee," Ziva said tightly, "are you alright?"

Tim thought about it for a second, started to say yes but then just shook his head; "not really, no."

"I asked you what that man was doing over there," she indicated the work being done on the desk.

"The guy muttered something about security upgrades on the desk when he got here. I'm a little distracted."

"That I can see," Ziva smirked. "So what has you so distracted?"

"He somehow managed to kill my computer," Tim said with a hint of whine in his voice. "I found out the obvious stuff and then went looking a bit deeper and suddenly there's something taking over and all I was left with was a box asking for a password. And no matter what I do, I can't get rid of the damned thing."

"You've run into things like that before," Ziva said. "Why is this time any different?"

"Because I told Abby," Tim said, hanging his head.

"And her system is now locked as well?"

"Yeah," Tim's reply was barely audible.

"Interesting," Ziva finally said. "Nothing I found indicated any sort of proficiency with computers."

"You found out something about him?"

"A little, my sources were . . . . limited."

"Did you call you're . . . ?"

"Yes, and that is why I know what little I do."

"I'm sorry Ziva," Tim said finally. He could only imagine what it cost her to call her father about something like this. "So why did he give you anything? I doubt he did it out of the goodness of his heart."

Ziva bristled a bit but acknowledged that the observation was a fair one. "Mr. Harris may have been involved in the death of someone significant, I'm supposed to determine what his role was, if any and report back."

Both turned as there was a thud and some muted cursing from where the desk was being worked on. "Right now I just want to double check a few things," Ziva said, turning to her desk.

Tim just nodded and then looked dejectedly back at the mess on his desk. The room was quiet for a while; quiet broken only by Ziva's tapping away at her terminal and the sound of work and muttered curses coming from under the new guy's desk. After about half an hour the silence was broken by the chime of the elevator. Ziva looked up as Tony got off. He looked rough, like he hadn't slept or if he'd slept, it hadn't been very restful. "Good morning Tony," she called out, mostly to annoy him. But today DiNozzo just grunted and flopped into his chair and just stared blankly at his computer screen. This would have made more sense if the thing had actually been turned on. To Ziva, Tony looked like he was dealing with something he didn't quite understand; actually he looked a lot like Tim at the moment. She thought about talking to him, but he really didn't seem to be in the talking mood at the moment so she went back to fact checking the report that her father had sent. A few minutes later there was a flurry of banging and some mild cursing in a language that didn't sound like English to Ziva. It did such a good job of distracting everyone that the three didn't notice Gibbs showing up. Things quieted down and everyone went to turn back to what they had been doing when they saw Gibbs standing there calmly sipping his coffee.

For his part, Gibbs had no luck finding out anything on Alexander L Harris. None of his usual sources had coughed anything up and Tobias' information had been sketchy at best. He'd been curious about what was going on with Harris' desk but then he got a good look at his team and wondered if they'd collectively been hit by a bus. Ziva looked the closest to normal, but Gibbs could see the strain on her face telling him that she was dealing with things she'd rather not deal with. McGee looked like he was reading something that was familiar but that he just couldn't quite understand; not to mention the parts of his computer that were scattered across his desk. DiNozzo simply looked like someone had just smacked him with a two by four. Gibbs wasn't sure he'd ever seen that look on the agent's face. "OK, what have you got," he finally asked. McGee abandoned his dismantled laptop, picked up a sheaf of papers and started reading.

"Alexander L Harris, born December 1, 1981 in Sunnydale California; that's the town that turned into a sink-hole in 2003. Parents Anthony and Jessica Harris, both deceased; he was a longshoreman and she clerked at a grocery store. Harris the senior had several notes in his union file about drinking on the job and from both Jessica and Alexander's medical files; it looked like he was pretty handy with his fists. Harris stands about 6'1", weighs around 185, had dark brown hair and brown eyes."

"Eye," Ziva cut in. "He somehow lost his left eye around the same time as his home town was destroyed."

Tim just nodded his thanks to Ziva and went on. "Average grades in High School and from the notes in his jacket it was obvious his principal hated him, didn't go to college; instead he went into construction after a series of menial jobs. Harris was named head of carpentry for Henderson Construction right before Sunnydale disappeared. Engaged to an Anya Jenkins but no record of a wedding or kids. Also it looks like she never made it out of Sunnydale, she was added to the list about a month after the event."

"Who added her name," Gibbs asked.

"It doesn't say; most of the records from that situation are kind of sketchy."

"Something to look into."

"On it Boss."

"So, anything post Sunnydale?"

"Very little. He spent about a month in Cleveland Ohio, after that he was in England for even less time and seems to have been in Africa for the ten years since then. There's no credit card activity for those years and the only official paper we have are some guardianships that were issued to him concerning two young women."

"You got their names and whereabouts?"

"Yeah, there's a Mchumba Harris currently living in Lisbon and a Lalani Harris who died last year in Vancouver."

Gibbs just nodded, knowing McGee would chase down all the paperwork on those girls. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, he knows one very scary hacker."

"How scary?"

McGee went on to explain both his and Abby's situations while trying and failing to ignore Gibb's growing scowl and Tony's growing smile.

"So you were the hackee instead of the hacker, huh McGeek; that's gotta be a bit humbling." Tony got out before Gibbs smacked the back of his head.

"It's unusual," McGee finally grated out. He wasn't used to being outclassed in cyberworld.

"Fix it," Gibbs growled out, and then he turned to DiNozzo.

"Apparently Harris had a problem with authority figures because in addition to his principal hating him, he was implicated in over one hundred felonies before he graduated. Now he was never charged or seriously questioned, but his name showed up that many times. And we're not talking about J-walking and that kind of thing; no, this is murder and robbery and disappearances. It is also possible that he was involved with the theft of several pieces of ordinance, including a LAWs from the armory of the 33rd regiment which was stationed in Sunnydale. The rocket may have been used later that day because there was an explosion at the Sunnydale Mall. And to cap it all off, he may very well have blown up his school at graduation. The explosion resulted in the loss of the town's mayor, the principal as well as several students and their parents. Despite his noted difficulty with authority, Harris wasn't even questioned and the incident was officially called a gas leak."

"How is that possible," Gibbs asked. He wasn't sure if DiNozzo could answer that or not. Gibbs knew that in his heart, DiNozzo was still a cop and coming across someone who appeared that dirty would bug him on a fundamental level.

"No idea boss, my source was pretty ticked off as well. Either Harris is just that slick or he hung around with a bad crowd but just never had the guts to do anything on his own."

Gibbs just shrugged and turned to Ziva who picked up the narrative.

"While in England Harris officially became a member of the NSWC before heading to Africa where he is their top man. As to what NSWC stands for, the best guess is New Soldier and Watcher's Council; this replaced the old IWC or International Watcher's Council."

"What happened to the IWC?"

"They and their headquarters were destroyed in an explosion in London in 2003."

"Is Harris possible for that?"

"No, he never left Sunnydale until it collapsed."

"That we know about," DiNozzo added.

Ziva shot the man a glare then was forced to concede that he had a point and continued. "His main base in Africa seems to be just outside of Lagos Nigeria but what is known about his travel, he's not there much. The people who work under him are extremely loyal and all attempts at placing an agent into his organization have failed. It is probable that he has taken executive action on more than one occasion and the toppling of three different regimes' can be tied to the actions of his group."

"How tightly tied," Gibbs asked.

"Tenuous at best," Ziva replied. "But the connections are there." She looked back down at the notes her father had sent her. "The only place he's been reliably spotted outside of Africa is Rome. He has been there at least three times and has had one confirmed meeting with the Pope."

"And he's being assigned here to learn," McGee asked.

"That's what the director told me," Gibbs replied, obviously not happy.

"He scares my father," Ziva chimed in abruptly. The three men turned to look at her, not sure about what they'd just heard. "He added a personal note saying that he considered Harris one of the most dangerous men in the world," Ziva concluded. For a second, silence reigned as all four of them considered what kind of a person would scare the leader of a notoriously ruthless organization.

"How are we supposed to figure out what this guy is up to," McGee asked, breaking the silence.

"Well you could ask," a new voice chimed in.


	3. Animals and Myself

ANIMALS AND MYSELF

At the sound of a voice she didn't know; Ziva's head snapped up even as her hand blurred down to her gun. Time seemed to slow down for her and she took in everyone's reactions while her body was on autopilot. Tim just looked even more confused than before as his eyes darted everywhere except in the direction of the threat. Tony was mimicking her reactions; his was just a touch slower than hers, Ziva thought with a hint of pride. One big surprise was Gibbs. Her boss just continued to sip his coffee, as though there was no problem but the tightening of the forehead and the subtle wince told Ziva that Gibbs was mentally kicking himself for making such a rookie mistake.

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As the maintenance guy's face came into view, Tony knew that it was Harris. It wasn't the face's shape or the hair color or even the eye patch; no, it was the strange little half assed grin that he was wearing. It perfectly matched the one in the picture of Harris that he had; actually it matched the look any kid might have when he pulled something over on an adult. Tony realized that his hand was still going for his gun, almost of its own volition; because Harris had not stopped moving. Harris had to realize that surprising a bunch of armed law enforcement types was an invitation to become swiss cheese but the guy was just casually stripping off his coveralls. As DiNozzo's gun was coming up, even as part of his brain was making sure that it wasn't fired, the rest of his brain was wondering if their new probie was flat out crazy.

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McGee felt even worse than he had before. When the voice spoke, it had taken him seemingly forever to not only locate but identify. Once he did figure out what was going on and was going for his gun he realized that Ziva's was already covering the guy and that Tony's wasn't far behind. He'd been working on his field skills, working hard; but right now he realized just how far he still had to go. Other than self recrimination, the one thought that went through McGee's head was that considering the color of the shirt Harris was wearing, it was no wonder the man had worn coveralls.

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Gibb's could almost feel the smack of Mike's hand on the back of his head, he was too old and too experienced to make such a bone headed mistake. Knowing that the others had Harris covered, he turned to look at his new pain in the ass. He was about six two, with messy brown hair and a chocolate brown eye. He was well muscled although it was hard to tell due to the baggy clothes he was wearing. He was dressed in a t-shirt and old fatigue pants with an eye searing Hawaiian print shirt over all and combat boots, boots that looked as though they may have actually walked across Africa. The thing that struck Gibbs, though; was the man's casual air. He had to know that there were at least two guns pointed at him, but he looked just as calm as if he were simply standing in a line at McDonald's. "What should we ask," Gibbs calmly inquired.

Harris' grin widened just a bit. "Well, you all obviously have questions and here I am, so ask away."

"Graduation?"

"Gas leak."

"Really?"

"That was the official conclusion of both the local and state police."

Gibbs realized that the way Harris had answered the question told him more than the kid was probably allowed to. Gibbs wondered if it had been intentional and as he paused for a second considering all of the ramifications of that answer when DiNozzo blurted out, "Your eye?"

"Right before Sunnydale became a crater a crazy serial killer who dressed like a minister showed up in town. One of his targets was my best friend's girlfriend. I stopped him from killing her but he gouged out my eye as a way of saying 'Thank You'."

Everyone winced at the thought and McGee even looked a little sick at the story. Typically, Ziva recovered first and asked, "And he is . . . ."

"Fertilizer," Xander replied coldly.

"Anya Jenkins?" McGee asked and Gibbs saw a wince of pain when her name had been spoken.

"She died when Sunnydale collapsed."

"How?"

"We owned a business, The Magic Box. Everyone knew something was up, the whole town was evacuating. We were on our way out when Anya realized that she'd left some rather important papers at the Magic Box and went to get them. She thought she had enough time to get what she needed and get out, but things went faster than we had thought."

"Where were you?"

"Driving a friend who had been hurt by one of our local crazies to the hospital in Oxnard. The man had been practically gutted."

"Why the delay?"

"On Anya?"

"Yeah."

"We wanted to confirm things, she'd survived so much that we had to make sure that she was really gone. So some colleagues retrieved the body. That's when her name was added to the list."

"The guy you took to the hospital?"

"Robin Wood."

Gibbs eyes flicked briefly to DiNozzo and he was quickly tapping away as Gibbs turned his attention back to the man in front of him. "The two girls?"

"You mean my daughters," Xander asked.

"I suppose," Gibbs replied

"I ran across them at different times in Africa. They were both in bad situations but legally I couldn't just take them, so to smooth things over I became their official guardian and eventually adopted them both. Mchumba was originally from Botswana and Lalani was from the Sudan."

"My computer," McGee asked before Gibbs could launch into another series of questions. It earned him a glare, but he really wanted to get Abby off of his back.

"I am sorry," Xander replied.

"Well you should be," McGee shot back with a bit of whine in his voice.

"No," Xander corrected with a smirk. "The password is 'iamsorry'. I'm not sorry it happened. You went sniffing in places that you shouldn't have and got burned. If you hadn't done something illegal then it wouldn't have tripped on you," Xander replied, clearly unrepentant. "You've probably heard of the Wisp, well that's who handles our cyber security so you might want to tread lightly in the future."

McGee paled, looked like he was going to say something a couple of times and then just turned away and was quickly on the phone to Abby while Xander turned his attention back to the others.

"Why were you working on your desk, I mean aside from being able to hear what we were talking about," Ziva asked.

"Security upgrades."

"On a desk, that seems a bit excessive," DiNozzo chimed in as he handed the file on Robin Wood to Gibbs.

"When you are one of the top members of an organization that's a mystery to the CIA, DIA, MI6, Mosad and every other intelligence agency in the world you have to be a bit more cautious than your average bear. No even bothering to mention how cautious I am after surviving ten years in Africa with next to no backup. If I'd put a work order through normal channels with my name on it, by the time the work was done I'd have more bugs in this desk than a bait shop. The upgrades needed to be done and it gave me a chance to see how you all work without putting on a show for my benefit. And I now also know what you people know about me so I can be sure what I can and can't talk about."

"That's pretty damned paranoid," Gibbs observed.

"Perfect paranoia is perfect awareness," Xander quoted.

"Ahh, Stephen King," DiNozzo said, recognizing the quote.

"Not his best work, but it yielded some good things," Xander shot back. Then looking at the four of them he asked, "Anything else?"

"Yeah, just what are you doing here?"

"Well, my boss decided that our organization was just being reactive."

"That's the NSWC?"

"Yeah."

"What's that stand for."

"Sorry, that one's classified," Xander smirked again then picked up his story. "Of the available personnel, I was chosen to learn how to make our organization more proactive. You know, squash trouble before trouble starts and explain to the troublemakers why what they're trying to do is bad. Anyway, it seems as though your group here has quite the reputation so I was assigned here to learn how to do what you all do. That and set up things like intelligence networks and what not, but mostly how to sift information for the important stuff and then see the pattern to it. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna get my stuff and start to get settled in."

As Harris was walking away, Gibbs called out; "What kind of trouble does your group deal with?"

Xander paused at the elevator, obviously thinking. Finally he called back, "You familiar with Rwanda?"

"Yeah."

"Heard anything about it lately?"

"Not really."

"Ever wonder why that is," Harris replied with a smirk as the elevator door closed.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

They just looked at each other for a second; not really believing what Harris had suggested could possibly be true. Gibbs was the first to come out of their little group trance. He turned to Tony, "DiNozzo, why don't you go see if he needs any help."

"On it Boss," Tony replied. He'd caught the unvoiced, 'and snoop as well' command that Gibbs had issued.

As he hurried off, Gibbs turned to the other two members of his team. "Was there any other information that you all had that didn't get shared?"

"No," Ziva replied immediately. "I was quite thorough and left no unturned stones."

Gibbs mentally translated this, then asked; "And your father was the only one that came up with anything?"

"Anything beyond the basics, yes," she nodded emphatically. It had bothered her that her usual sources had been so frugal with the details, but that happened sometimes. And from what he had said, Harris went out of his way to be as anonymous as possible. "I would suggest contacting someone at the CIA, but I doubt they would have much more than my father did."

"I'll keep it in mind," Gibbs replied, then turned to McGee. "When Harris said "Wisp" you looked like you were having a heart attack McGee, why is that?"

"The Wisp is a legend in the hacker community. Whoever it was could do the most impossible hacks you could ever dream of," McGee replied with a bit of hero worship in his voice. "So far as anyone can tell, the Wisp is still out there and has never been caught. It was thought that whoever it was gave it up, but every now and then someplace with insane security will crash and burn and the Wisp's name will always come up in the chat." McGee leaned forward on his desk, becoming more animated. "There are a lot of hackers who believe that the Wisp is like Keyser Soze', a phantom or hacker spook story, that there couldn't possibly be someone out there who's that good. But for Harris to claim that that is who's doing the security for his group would tend to confirm that the Wisp really does exist. That's very exciting to me."

"I can see that McGee, Gibbs almost snarled. "What I want to know is , can you find out anything else?"

"Probably not boss," McGee replied. "I got by with just a metaphorical slap on the wrist, if I go looking again and get burned then it's gonna get ugly."

"Why?"

"Because I'm just not that good, and warnings tend to increase in severity, so that the next time it will be a lot worse than just a password." Tim finished, but Gibbs could see that the young man was still troubled.

"Anything else McGee?"

"Well boss," McGee started. "I'm wondering if we should stand down a bit." Seeing Gibbs expression hardening he continued. "Harris is supposed to be one of the good guys, nothing we've found says otherwise. Yeah, he might be dangerous, but I honestly don't think he's dangerous to us. And yeah, he has secrets in his past, but all of us do, don't we? So I'd suggest we sit back and take a wait and see attitude and if it starts to look like something from his past is gonna bite us in the ass, we ask him what's going on. If he stonewalls then, we should know more about him by then so that we could do a more focused search and ask the right people instead of shooting in the dark and hoping we hit something."

Gibbs glared at the young agent for a few moments but McGee metaphorically stood his ground. Reluctantly Jethro had to admit that McGee had a point and that charging head first at Harris would probably do more harm than good. He was impressed that McGee had suggested a course of action that wouldn't be popular but was probably the right way to do things and had then stood behind his beliefs. Yeah, Gibbs was impressed, but that didn't mean he had to led McGee know it. He just intensified his glare for a moment or two and then just grunted and turned away. He caught a thoughtful look on Ziva's face and realized that McGee's suggestion had her thinking about her approach to Harris as well.

Just then the elevator chimed releasing Harris and DiNozzo on an unsuspecting world. "Seriously, what have you got in here Harris, and anvil or two?"

"Quit whining Tony, those are just my weapons. I've got all the heavy books and stuff, you got the light load."

"It doesn't feel light," DiNozzo grumped as he adjusted an old army duffle bag on his shoulder. From his expression Gibbs could tell that Tony was worried about what the bag was doing to his suit.

Harris set down a large box and a laptop case next to his desk and took the duffle off of DiNozzo. "Thanks Tony," he said.

"What have you got in there," McGee asked as he watched Harris undo the top of the bag and open it up.

"Just the basics," Xander replied as he started to pull weapons out of the bag. His new team mates just stood there in clear astonishment as he pulled out four pistols, three knives a shotgun and axe and . . . .

"Is that a sword," Ziva asked.

"Yeah," Xander replied. "It's a replica of a roman gladius that a friend had made for me."

DiNozzo looked at the array of weapons and asked what was on everyone's mind. "Don't you think that all this is kind of overkill?"

Xander turned to him with the devil's own grin, "There's no such thing."


	4. Shapes and Fires

SHAPES AND FIRES

"What the hell Harris, are you geared up for World War III," Gibbs asked.

"Nope," Xander replied. "We've got a lot of autonomy as to our weapons and these are the ones that I personally use, well at least for a light job."

"Light," McGee asked; picking up a revolver that was about the size of his forearm. "How is this light?"

"Well, you don't see any Claymores, RPG's or C4 do you," Xander replied. They all looked up at this only to see Harris working hard to maintain a straight face.

"So why these in particular," Gibbs asked almost cracking a smile.

"Well, I had to keep three things in mind, portability, versatility and a lot of blam; I mean you gotta have the right tools for any situation. So I've got the two Colt M1911As because they pack a heck of a punch and they are damn near indestructible. The Glock 18C in case I need to just 'spray and pray', not to mention the fact that it's almost as durable as the Colt and hand held as well. The SuperRedhawk is chambered as a .454 Casull in case I need to stop something really large, like a truck. Not to mention it can work with the standard .45 rounds as well, so versatility again."

"And the Walther PPK," DiNozzo asked.

Xander blushed a little, "I'm kind of a secret agent and I'm at least partially a British citizen, it just seemed appropriate."

"Harris, Alex Harris," DiNozzo said in a passable Connery voice.

There was a bit of laughter and then Xander looked at them all. "Not bad Tony, but could you all please call me Xander, everyone does and I keep wondering who you're talking to when I hear anything else."

"So then why all the blades; Harris," Gibbs asked.

Xander sighed, knowing that Gibbs would probably use the name thing to get under his skin; well two could play at that game if it came to that. "Cause I've been in Africa for almost a decade," Xander replied. "Guns are great when you've got access to steady supplies of ammo and spare parts, but if you don't then they're just cool looking paperweights. Blades on the other hand, as well as bows; which I didn't bring, require a lot less in the way of logistics to maintain. So if you're at the back end of beyond on a regular basis, knives, swords and axes make a lot more sense." As he was saying this, Xander was securing his various bladed weapons either to himself or in spots in and around his desk. He looked at Gibbs as his hands hovered over his guns, "you want me to bring these down to the range?"

"Just the .45s" Gibbs replied. "They're your usual sidearms, right?"

"Yeah," Xander replied and soon the other three hand guns plus the shotgun had vanished into the desk, as though they'd never existed at all. He then stood up, securing his Colts into a belt holster which was hidden by the hem of his Hawaiian shirt. "You're required to be armed at all times, right."

"Yep," Gibbs replied, then without a word he headed for the elevator. Seeing the others following him, Xander fell in.

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When the doors opened, Xander took one whiff of the air and said, "Morgue?"

"You could actually tell that by the odor," Ziva asked, having caught the whiff.

"Formaldehyde," Xander replied succinctly.

"You can smell that from here," McGee asked, incredulously.

Xander held his face still for a second and then just grinned and pointed to the sign indicating what direction the morgue was in.

"Cute," Gibbs muttered and then led the way to the morgue.

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Ducky was in the middle of doing the autopsy on a Marine Lance Corporal from EOD who had cut the wrong wire when the door opened and the entire team plus one walked in.

"Good day Jethro, what brings you down to see me today," Ducky asked, without looking up.

"That would be me," Xander spoke up.

Ducky looked up to see the young man that he'd heard so much about. From his nephew's descriptions of the man's exploits, Ducky had expected the man to be some Ramboesque behemoth, but the grinning, messy-haired young man standing in front of him certainly didn't fit that description. "You must be young Mr. Harris," he finally said. "I'd shake your hand if it wasn't covered in this young man's innards. This is Mr. Palmer, my assistant," Ducky said, waving a hand at Jimmy.

"Call me Xander," he was told as he shook the new guy's hand. "Jimmy is fine," he replied.

"I've got some news and a present or two when you have the time," Xander told the ME.

"Splendid," Ducky replied. "Now I'd like to get this wrapped up so unless you have any questions . . . ."

"Just one," Xander said. "Is the 'Ducky' because of 'Donald' or 'Mallard'?"

Ducky froze for a second; no one had ever asked him that one. "Bit of both I suppose," he finally answered. "No off with you young Alexander," he made shooing motions with his gore stained hands, "I'll let you know when I'm free."

"Looking forward to it Ducky," Xander called back as they headed out the door.

"So how do you know Ducky," McGee asked.

"I don't, never met the man," Xander replied. "But his nephew is part of the organization I work for. When Roger heard I was going to be here he had me bring a few things and some news for Dr. Mallard."

"So Ducky knows about the NSWC?"

"Not really, he worked with them while it was still the IWC, and the differences between the two are pretty extreme."

"Still . . . . ," Gibbs started.

"There's nothing he can tell you anyway," Xander cut him off. "Think of it like post hypnotic suggestion Gibbs, he literally cannot talk about what he knows. And understand one thing. It isn't our security we're worried about, it's his. If anyone knew that he had been associated with us then he would be a target. A target of people a lot more ruthless than you're used to dealing with."

Gibbs scowled at that. He believed Harris to a degree, but Gibbs also suspected that the bastard knew the way to get him to back off was to say that a course of action would endanger one of his people. It suggested that not only did Harris know more about them than they did about him; but that he could predict their reactions as well. The doors in front of them opened and they were hit with a blast of music, involuntarily Gibbs smiled; Abby had a way of making that happen.

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"Gibbs," Abby yelled and turned with a smile, but then she froze and her smile turned to a scowl when she spotted the man next to Gibbs. "You," she called out and bounced over to stand in front of Xander. She stood there frozen for a moment as though she couldn't think of anything appropriate to say. Suddenly her hand flashed out and smacked Xander's left cheek. "That's for causing my systems to lock up."

For his part, Xander was intrigued rather than hurt. He stood there trying to determine what response should be made. Being Xander, he chose the riskiest. His left hand flashed out and smacked Abby on the right cheek. "That's for getting caught searching where you shouldn't have been." Xander heard almost sub audio growls coming from both Gibbs and Ziva, a gasp from Tony and a quiet "Hey," from McGee; he noted and catalogued these responses but his focus was on the girl in front of him, her reaction was the only significant one, at least right now. She stood there stunned, her hand drifted to her cheek. Xander could see the wheels turning in her head and he mentally bet with himself as to what her response would be. "Alright then," she said with a small grin, "no getting caught while I'm looking for stuff I shouldn't be."

"Promise me," Xander said with mock severity. "I don't want to be having to explain why your computers literally melted now would I?"

Abby gaped at him. "That could really happen?"

"Yeah, it was kinda funny at the time," Xander said with a slow grin. "But the agency it happened to was less than thrilled."

"I bet," McGee chimed in.

"So who was it," Gibbs asked.

"I'm not allowed to say," Xander replied. "But it shouldn't be that hard to find out who put in an order for a multi-million dollar mainframe in the last two years."

There was a twinkle in Abby's eyes as she turned briefly to Gibbs; "I like him, can we keep him?"

"He's only supposed to be here a year at most."

"We'll see about that," Abby replied and flounced back to her instruments. "Now go away, I don't have anything for you right now," she called over her shoulder.

As they were headed out the door Xander said to Gibbs, "Nice girl, she reminds me of a couple of my friends. I'm not thrilled with the whole Goth thing but whatever floats her boat."

"What's wrong with Goth," McGee asked.

"It's the whole obsession with death, to the point of romanticizing it that bugs me. Death will come when it comes, and for most of us it won't be pretty. I'm not afraid of dying, but I'm not going to seek death out either; and I am certainly not going to rehearse it." He turned to Gibbs; the look on the man's face told him a lot. It was clear that Abby was a favorite of his; probably a surrogate daughter, and Xander had not been as respectful as Gibbs had doubtlessly wanted him to be. Gibbs was gonna exact some payment for that, Xander knew; the question was what form it would take. "So where to next," he asked

"Range," Gibbs tersely replied.

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Gibbs was officially impressed. He wasn't about to let anyone know that he was impressed but frankly it was hard not to be. Harris might be a sneaky, secretive, suspicious bastard and he was gonna pay for smacking Abby but damned if the kid couldn't shoot the lights out. Gibbs had felt it almost as soon as they walked into the range. Something changed in the kid, it was like Michael Jordan at the end of a close game; he knew exactly where he was and what he was supposed to do. Wordlessly he'd sent a target twenty five yards downrange, then with a glance to make sure it was clear; he drew his gun in a blur of motion and pointed it downrange. The way the kid held the gun bordered on indifference, which meant, Gibbs knew; that the gun was practically an extension of the kid's arm. He didn't disappoint. Emptying the gun in under five seconds, he obliterated the target's head. Then before anyone could move the kid's left hand moved, a bit slower than the right but plenty fast; and with a slight tilt to his head as his only adjustment, the kid proceeded to shred the target's chest.

Gibbs watched as Harris then put down both guns and turned with a smirk as the target returned; "I'm not as fast with my left, but I'm working on it."

"See that you do," Gibbs replied as he checked to see his team's reaction. McGee looked both amazed and calculating and with an internal groan Gibbs realized that there would be a new character in McGee's next book. DiNozzo just looked pleased, why, Gibbs wasn't sure. As he looked at Ziva, he saw the light of battle in her eyes and Gibbs knew that Harris would be challenged and soon. If it came to that, Gibbs wouldn't mind shooting a match against the kid himself. Maybe he could knock that smarmy grin off the kid's face. "Okay, you can shoot; now go get changed for hand to hand. We've got to know your level and what to expect from you in the field."

"Fine," Harris replied, obviously disappointed that there wouldn't be more shooting.

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The kid's problem was obvious, even to McGee who wasn't as comfortable with hand to hand fighting as the others. "He's slow on the attack, Boss." And he was. When it came to defense, Harris was lightning quick and compensated well for his lack of an eye. But he seemed almost reluctant to attack. Gibbs watched as Harris either blocked or avoided everything DiNozzo was throwing at him. Wrestling, Judo, Boxing, it didn't matter; Harris never allowed a good hit, but his few attacks were so slow that Ducky could have avoided them. Gibbs turned to Ziva and gave her a look. She just nodded without words being exchanged, she knew what to do. "Okay, next up," Gibbs called out. DiNozzo came out of the ring and Ziva stalked in, there was no other way to put the way she moved. Gibbs was surprised to note that Harris didn't relax, if anything the kid was more wary than he had been with DiNozzo. Usually men backed off when fighting a woman, but Harris was actually treating her like the threat that she was. Without a word she was on him, a flurry of blows that still failed to puncture the kid's defenses. The kid was dancing all over the ring, moving and blocking and not allowing Ziva a chance to work up to some combinations. Realizing what he was doing, Ziva changed her tactics and started herding the kid and eventually pinned him in a corner, then she went all out. Harris was pure defense, blocking and re-directing everything Ziva threw at him; but he stubbornly refused to attack.

But then suddenly he did. After everything was said and done, Gibbs figured that Ziva had gotten some kind of openhanded attack near Harris's missing eye. Whether it was that or that Ziva had somehow hit the kid's breaking point was discussed for a couple of weeks, as was the outcome. A kick to the thigh and Ziva was forced a bit out of the crouch she'd been in. As soon as her jaw was exposed, it was met with a devastating back fist that spun the girl across the mat where she lay, not moving. Harris just stood there, looking at her; seemingly appalled at what he'd done. When Harris did move he surprised Gibbs by leaving the ring as opposed to checking on Ziva.

"You're a bastard, you know that," Xander snarled at Gibbs.

"We had to know you're strengths and weaknesses if you're gonna be in the field with us. We couldn't know unless you went all out and you refused to do that. So Ziva forced you to go all out."

"Yeah, yeah; ruin my bad mood with logic why don't you." Xander just stood there and glowered for a moment. He hated fighting anyone he worked with. In his experience it caused problems he was better off without. Gibbs was right about him holding back and their needing to know what he was capable of. That didn't mean he had to like it.

"I think I just did; now why don't you see how she's doing?"

"Are you kidding? Odds are she's playing possum just so she can kick my ass when I go over and act all concerned."

"What is 'playing possum'," came a voice from the ring.

"It's what you're doing," Harris replied. "Acting like you're out of it to put your opponent in a vulnerable position."

"Why are you afraid, you won after all," Ziva asked, sitting up.

"I was able to surprise you," Xander answered. "Now that you know what to expect from me, I'd expect you to beat me around the ring on a regular basis."

"Really," McGee asked.

"Hell yeah," Xander replied. "She's a trained fighter, I'm a glorified brawler. The brawler can win if he has the element of surprise, but once the fighter knows what to expect and can compensate for it, then it's pretty much all over."

"Your speed is quite the equalizer," Ziva said, standing up.

"True, but I'd still take a trained fighter over a brawler any day of the week." Here he turned to Ziva, "Would you be willing to train me, two or three times a week while I'm here?"

She thought about it, it would make it easier for her to learn about what her father was interested in. But then she remembered that Harris already knew that she was supposed to get that from him. Yet he was willingly putting himself within her reach; it was confusing. "Sure, if you really want, I could use the work outs."

"Great, just let me know what time works for you." Ziva nodded and as he turned away from her, DiNozzo spoke up.

"Why are you wanting training, you beat her after all?"

"Tony, in my organization I'm one of the worst at hand to hand. If I see an opportunity to learn from someone who is really good, I'm gonna take it."

"What, you mean that most of the people you work with can take you in hand to hand?"

"Yep."

"Then what do you need us for."

"Because we're hell on wheels when the bad guy walks across our sights; but that usually means that we don't find him until he wants to be found. This means that he's prepared for someone coming after him and that we're gonna lose people when we take him down. If we can learn to spot a bad guy early on, before they're ready to be found, then we should be able to dust his ass with a lot less fuss and bother, and certainly fewer casualties. You all can teach me how to do that, how to find the ones that aren't ready to be found and I can then teach my people how to do it as well. That way there's a lot fewer funerals to attend, and I'm all for that."

"You thinking about someone in particular," Gibbs asked.

"I'm thinking about too many someones," Xander answered and headed off to the showers.


	5. How Easily it Gathers

HOW EASILY IT GATHERS

"You know, I haven't done this much paperwork in years," Xander said, looking with distaste at the seemingly endless piles of paper on his desk.

"You all don't have paperwork in the NSWC," Tim asked, curiosity overcoming his fear that the new guy would ask for help and then he'd be stuck doing paperwork as well.

"Sure we do, but I'm a master at avoiding it. Heck, we eventually went paperless because there was no way I'd ever be able to catch up on the five years worth that I'd never filled out."

"You ditched all your paperwork for five years," DiNozzo said in reverential tones.

"Hey, I was in Africa; which is a pretty free wheeling place to begin with. And I was moving almost constantly so getting all the forms to me was a bit of a problem as well. I started out with so many built in excuses that I didn't have to repeat any of them for three years."

"You didn't repeat an excuse for three years," Ziva asked.

"No, I repeated some of them; I just didn't have to if I didn't want to."

"Then why would you?"

"My boss polishes his glasses when he gets annoyed, it's an anger control thing. Anyway, every now and again I would find one that would make him polish his glasses to a new prescription, those were worth repeating. And onetime I got him to reach for his glasses to polish when he was already polishing them. That was more a matter of timing than anything, but I was really in the zone that day."

"Think any of those would work on Gibbs?"

"Nah, being half a world away was kind of necessary. You see, my boss has the charming nick-name of Ripper; and no, you don't want to know how he got it. I found it best to piss off someone like that when you are at least a continent away. With Gibbs I've got to figure out his buttons first, then I'll work on ditching the paperwork. Till then, I'll just suck at it."

"You mean that you will intentionally do a job poorly," Ziva asked.

"Yeah, it's like the husband's theory of housework," Xander explained. "If you do it poorly enough, they'll never ask you to do it again; so problem solved." Tim and Tony both laughed while Ziva still looked confused. In truth, the young woman was having trouble reconciling what she'd been told about Alexander Harris and what she'd seen with her own eyes. The man could fight, and he was a very good shot. Obviously resourceful and clever, Ziva had not forgotten the way he had surprised them all. But then Ziva looked over at him as he laughed at some joke that Tony had made and for the life of her could not see this laughing boy as dangerous in any way. She wondered if her father was slipping, or maybe he had given her false information as a sort of test; but for whatever reason, the whole notion that Alexander Harris was dangerous now seemed ludicrous to her. She would train the man, and keep an eye on him; she would categorize him as a threat, but not a great threat. No the kind of threat her father had hinted that he was. That was silly. Shaking her head, she sat down, missing the quick smirk that Xander sent her way.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

Xander was filling out all of the forms needed so that he could function at NCIS and trying to ignore the sniping that Ziva, Tony and Tim were engaged in when he heard the elevator ding. The light whiff of formaldehyde told him that either Ducky, Jimmy or both were approaching. He listened closely for a second and heard only one set of footsteps, and they weren't moving very swiftly; so it was Ducky. Smoothly he rose, turned and bowed to the man and began speaking in Swahili. "/Greetings Elder/."

Ducky looked surprised for a moment, but then he gave a small smile and bowed in return. "/Greetings young warrior/."

"/I have news of your nephew, if you would hear it now. Also, we could return to English if you wish/"

"/No, this is fine/," Ducky replied. "/How is Roger/?"

"/He is now stationed in Australia and is a Full Watcher with four slayers. He is charged with keeping things around Uluru as quiet as possible, but you remember how that goes/."

"/Indeed, and what is the state of everything/?"

"/It goes well. It has taken ten years to get it mostly under control, but we are now fully organized and caring for all known slayers. I would not have left Africa if that were not the case/."

"/I believe you/," Ducky replied, idly noting the surprised looks on the others faces as the two of them chatted away. "/Are you truly here to learn/?"

"/I am/," Xander replied. "/It is time that we learned to act instead of constantly reacting to the threats around us. It will preserve lives and provide a surer defense. You and this team can help me learn to do that/."

"/That we can my boy. Just let me know if there is anything I can do for you/."

"/I will, and thank you/." Xander shook the man's hand. "/You know they will ask you about this/."

"/I know/," Ducky sighed. "/But my defenses are still in place, so no need to worry on my account/."

"/Good to know/," Xander replied with a smile. Then he turned to the desk and soon turned back to Ducky with a package in his hand. "/This is from Roger, it has your favorite single malt and that Indian tea you like so much. He called it a care package since you couldn't get this stuff in the States/."

"/Care indeed/," Ducky said with a grin as he enthusiastically took the package from Xander. "/I must remember to thank him, and soon/."

"/His address is in the package as well/," Xander said. Then, looking a bit embarrassed he continued; "/You know that he really admires you, right/?"

"/I do/," Ducky replied, wistfully. "/But it is mutual for I admire him greatly as well and it is good to know that he is doing so admirably/." The old ME looked like he wanted to say more, but gathered himself, dignity surrounding him like a cloak. "/Good day, young warrior/," he said with a bow.

"/Go in wisdom, Elder/," Xander replied; a small smile on his face as he watched the man leave. As soon as the elevator door closed, he turned back around and sitting, resumed the seemingly endless paperwork.

"What the hell was that," Tony finally asked when it was clear that Xander wasn't going to volunteer anything.

"What, I talked to Ducky, told him about his nephew and passed on a care package, what's the dire?"

"In Swahili," Tim stated, but with a question in his voice.

"He knows it, I know it; why not?"

"Because it appears to be suspicious," Ziva chimed in. "Besides, there was nothing about speaking Swahili in your file."

"Yeah, well I doubt my file says that I like the Beach Boys and romantic comedies either," he fired back at Ziva. "Remember, I just spent ten years in Africa, do you think that there is any way I could be there and not pick up Swahili, Arabic or French," he asked in a 'Duh' tone of voice.

Ziva flushed as said nothing more and Xander went grumpily back to his paperwork.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

It had taken a while but Xander had finally registered all of his guns, apparently he didn't have to fill out a small rainforest to carry anything with a blade; and was now debating as to whether he should continue with the paperwork or make the calls that he should have already made. Neither option thrilled him. 'Easiest first,' Xander thought as he picked up his phone. It was the standard NCIS phone but Xander had run the cord through a little black box that Andrew had cooked up that added another level of encryption just in case someone at the office decided to bug his phone. He dialed the phone, it rang a couple of times and then a perky voice said, "New Slayer and Watcher's Council, how can I direct your call?"

"Anita, it's Xander; could you connect me with Giles?"

"Of course Mr. Harris, he's been expecting your call." Xander winced. Anita Worthington was a spritely sixty year old grandmother and from day one had insisted on calling him Mr. Harris. Xander wasn't sure what was worse, being called Mr. Harris all the time or having the well meaning woman constantly trying to hook him up with her nieces whenever he was in England.

"Xander, I trust everything is satisfactory," Giles voice cut in on the line.

"Yeah Giles, everything got here OK."

"Then what is the problem. I know that tone," he cut in before Xander could even start his denial.

Xander switched to Latin. "/The Mossad are interested in what happened in Gabon. Apparently he did some work for them from time to time./"

"Bugger," was all Giles had to say on the matter. "Is there anything you could do?"

"/Not really, I'm trying to convince her that I'm not nearly the threat that their files claim I am. She seems to be leaning that way so hopefully the matter will never come up. If it does then I'll handle it but I hope it doesn't come to that./"

"Neither do I my boy, we have very little in the way of leverage with that particular organization."

"/I know Giles. But we better come up with a plan because if I were a betting man, I'd bet that the whole situation will come out./"

"Why would you think that," the Englishman wondered.

"/Because the universe hates me,/" Xander answered simply.

Laughing, Giles hung up the phone; leaving Xander to make his next call. He dialed and after two rings it was picked up. "Good evening," answered a rich, deep but unmistakably feminine voice.

"How are you doing little girl," Xander asked, with a smile in his voice.

"Papa Xander," the voice squealed, rising almost two octaves when it did.

"Yeah kiddo, it's me," he replied after jerking the phone away from his ear.

"Where are you? Why are you calling? Is anything wrong? The girl fired the questions off rapidly, worry coloring her voice now.

"I'm fine," Xander answered quickly. "I'm just calling to let you know where I am and give you a couple of numbers in case you need to contact me." Here he rattled off two new phone numbers and had the girl repeat them back to him. "As to where I am, well I'm in Washington D.C."

"You're really somewhere other than Africa," the girl asked; amazement in her voice.

"Yeah, I'm on assignment for Giles. I'm scheduled to be here for a year." He sighed, "We'll see how that works out."

"Why didn't you let me come with you," she asked.

"You know why," Xander replied.

"There is no chance that what happened to Lani would . . . ."

"Don't say that," Xander cut her off. "Don't you dare taunt Murphy like that. Yes, I know it was a one in a million chance that took your sister. My head understands that, but my gut tells me that if you were here with me then something equally unlikely would happen. And I want you to live a long long life and give me a horde of fat grandchildren to spoil."

There was silence on the other end of the line for about ten seconds, then she muttered, "Well that will never happen if you keep threatening any boy who smiles at me."

"If they can't handle me, then they can't handle your life," Xander replied with a father's logic.

"Yes, of course father," the girl grumped. "Because you are so much less scary than what we deal with on a daily basis." There was an enormous amount of sarcasm in her voice.

"Exactly," Xander agreed, ignoring the sarcasm. "Now that you've gotten that out of your system, I would like you to come over for December if you could."

"Really, a whole month," the girl squealed again.

"Of course, if you'd rather not . . . ." Xander started.

"Finish that thought Papa, and I'll stay in every night I'm there just so you'll have no one to threaten."

"You never let me have any fun," Xander pouted. Then, as the girl's laughter wound down, "I've got to go honey, you know how it is."

"I do Papa," she replied. "Stay safe; I love you."

"Right back at you kiddo. I'll talk to you on Sunday and see you in a couple of months."

"Goodbye Papa," the girl murmured and hung up the phone.

Xander just stared at the thing for a moment or two. When he had found Mchumba, the girl was thirteen and being used by a gang that ran a pit fighting ring near Ghanzi. Unwilling to voluntarily give up the girl, things got fractious. Some of the gang ended up hurt, some maimed and a couple dead and Xander ended up with a girl that wouldn't leave his side. He officially took guardianship of the girl once it was determined that her family was dead and that she had no one in the world; it made moving from country to country much easier. She traveled with him for the next four years and was then sent off to England to finish her slayer training. Ultimately she ended up in Lisbon, Portugal; where Robson, an old friend of Giles, ran things. It was painful for Xander because he was forced to maintain his distance from the girl because there were too many people that would not hesitate to use her to get to him. In a way he now knew how Buffy had felt all those years when he and Willow had been helping out. It was something that had brought him closer to his friend and the times he'd been to Rome were very precious memories. Buffy knew where he was and why he was there, now it was time to make two more calls, and these wouldn't be nearly so pleasant. He dialed yet again and waited, eventually the line was picked up.

"Hello."

"Hi Kennedy, can you put Willow on the line?"

"Why would she want to talk to you," came the sneering reply.

"Because I am required to check in with her directly; otherwise I wouldn't have called." Xander was doing his best to remain civil.

There was a huff, followed by a 'clunk' as the receiver was unceremoniously dropped on something hard. A couple of minutes later, a breathless voice asked, "Xander?"

"Hey Wills, I'm just calling with my contact specifics." He then rattled off his relevant phone numbers and where he would be living.

"Not the Slayer House?"

"No, I want to keep the group I'm with in the dark. They might get curious as to why I'm staying at a girl's school and that could lead to awkwardness. Better to keep my distance if I can."

"That makes sense," Willow replied. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, you might want to keep an eye on the servers. I work with a couple of world class hackers and they're curious about me and what we do. I've got a feeling that your first warning might be seen as a challenge rather than a threat; and they're good enough that they might get a few levels in."

"I'll keep an eye on it Xander; but now . . . . ."

"I know, Bratney Spears is demanding your attention and can't wait."

"What is your problem with her Xander," Willow asked, annoyed.

"She wouldn't give us enough time for that conversation Willow," Xander replied. "Talk to you later," he said and hung up the phone. He stared at it a moment or two, wondering if he'd ever answer Willow's question; at least to her face. The problem was fairly simple; Willow was pussy-whipped and whatever Kennedy wanted, Kennedy got. And mostly what the girl wanted was Willow to herself; apparently she'd never learned to share. So anytime you tried to have a conversation with Willow, you either had to put up with Kennedy being right there and inserting herself all the time or get everything said in ten seconds; because that was how long it took for Kennedy to manufacture some crisis that demanded Willow's attention. The first option was unpalatable because Kennedy had all the tact and warmth of a Gila Monster and the second was impossible because you simply could not get Willow to ignore the girl when she went into demand mode. The sad truth was that if not for Council business, he doubted that he would have talked to Willow at all in the past year, and that was a hell of a step down from when Buffy had first stepped into their lives. Suddenly Xander realized that he'd been trying to delay the inevitable and picked up the phone for the last time that day and dialed.

"NSWC, how can I help you," a voice answered.

"Hi Tanya, it's Xander; is Dawn available?"

"Xander," the voice squealed, "How are you?"

"I'm fine, how about you? I thought you'd be off desk duty by now."

"I should be, but the doc is just being cautious."

"What did you do to her?"

"Nothing," the voice protested, then hesitated, "nothing major anyway."

"Uh-huh," Xander replied. "Well now you know how far to push it, don't you?"

"Yes Xander," Tanya replied, her pout clear over the phone. "Hang on, I'll put you through." There was silence and then a way too familiar voice said, "Xander".

Xander winced, the tone was clipped and precise and as warm as a glacier. Two years ago they'd met again by chance in Rome; neither one knew that the other would be there. They'd both been hurting and had grabbed on to each other with a desperate strength. It had been an emotional whirlwind for the both of them, but then the moment of truth arrived. Xander had to go back to Africa, Dawn chose to go back to Cleveland and that was it. Words had been said on both sides that couldn't be taken back and now there was just this icy, civil truce between them. Even two years later, the pain from that conversation cut into Xander every time he heard her voice. Mostly, these days, he pitied Buffy, as she was caught in the middle of this very uncivil war. "Hey Dawn, I'm just checking in so you all know where I am and how to get a hold of me in case I'm needed." He then rattled off two phone numbers and an address before she had a chance to respond.

"Why are you in Washington, Xander?"

"It's an assignment from Giles," he responded, intentionally giving her no information. "If he wants you to know, he'll tell you." The comment was petty, but then Xander had never claimed to be the most mature of people and these days, Dawn brought out the asshole in him even faster than Kennedy did.

"I'm sure there won't be a situation where you're needed Xander," Dawn fired back; proving that she could be just as petty.

"No doubt," Xander said, just wanting to be off the phone. "Stay safe Dawn," and then he hung up the phone, not wanting to hear anything else that Dawn had to say. Xander sat back and rubbed his eyes, then looked at the clock to see what time it was; ne never wore a watch. Deciding that he'd been there long enough, Xander got up and headed out the door, it was time to see what the apartment that the local Watcher had set up for him was like.


	6. All The Fires

ALL THE FIRES

The apartment was fine; there had even been a box of Twinkies in the cupboard. A note left on the kitchen table gave him the name and number of the local Slayer house as well as the location for two demon bars, because you never really knew when that kind of thing would come in handy. He'd relished sleeping in a bed and waking up to a hot shower and indoor plumbing, something that had happened too rarely in the last ten years and headed in to NCIS. He was early but Xander had his first training session with Ziva. The former Mossad agent was an excellent teacher and Xander found himself learning moves that would help compensate for his limited vision. Everything had gone well until they'd decided to end things with a spar; sometimes Xander just had to be Xander.

"What the hell happened to you," Tony asked his newest probie, noting the spectacular shiner that was already forming around the newbie's good eye.

Xander just smirked as Ziva walked past looking both angry and embarrassed. "Go ahead Ziva, tell em how you punched a guy out after he was down," Xander said, his smirk growing.

Tony turned to Ziva, who now looked even more embarrassed. "It was your own fault Harris."

"You mean I punched myself in the eye?"

"No, that is not what I mean and you know it," She replied with a huff and sat down.

"Would someone please tell me what the hell happened," Tony asked.

When Ziva just huffed again, Xander spoke up. "We were sparring after my lesson, and eventually Ziva managed to put me on the canvas, but when I showed my appreciation for her teaching me, she turned around and slugged me."

"Showing your appreciation; is that what you call it," Ziva grumped from behind a file folder.

"Well of course," Xander answered, sitting behind his own desk. He turned to Tony, who was still looking confused. "Like I said, she had finally managed to put me on the canvas and was doing this cute little victory jig, and I just showed my appreciation."

Tony turned back to Ziva, it was clear that he was missing something crucial, and he had a feeling that it was going to be pretty funny, he wasn't wrong.

"You pinched my bottom," Ziva blurted out as she rose behind her desk, looking as though she was seriously thinking about pulling her gun. As soon as the words were out, the look on DiNozzo's face told Ziva that it would have been infinitely better if she had managed to keep that little tidbit to herself. Well, it would be one more that she would pay back to Harris at their next training session.

As Tony nearly bent double laughing, Harris spoke up. "Well, in my defense it is a rather cute bottom."

"I should have you up on sexual harassment charges," Ziva fired back.

"They'd never stick, I'd have you do your victory dance and defy any man witnessing that to not want to give it a pinch." After that observation, silence descended on the bullpen as Ziva just sank back behind her desk, her glowering countenance once again disappearing behind her file folder; Tony tried to get himself under some semblance of control and Xander once again returned to the wonderful job of filling out forms. When Tim came in half an hour later, Ziva was still fuming, Xander was still trying to decipher governmentese and Tony looked like the cat that had got the canary. He stopped in front of the new guy's desk. "Is that your motorcycle on level two?"

"Big black one," Xander asked.

"Yeah."

"Yep, that's mine. Why did someone hit it?"

"No I'd just never noticed it before, so I figured I'd ask. What is it?"

"An Indian 841," Xander answered. "I found the thing in Morocco almost seven years ago, I honestly have no idea how it got there, it's not common after all. Anyway, that's the toughest, most dependable vehicle I've ever come across and in Africa, those are important. It's been all over that continent with barely a complaint."

"I'm just surprised you're riding a motorcycle; what with your injury and all," he gestured vaguely at Xander's missing eye.

"Actually, it's better than driving a car," Xander replied. "There's nothing to interrupt my field of vision. Plus, I've put a couple of trick mirrors on there so I can see all around me with just a glance."

"Could I try it sometime," Tim asked.

"Sure," Xander replied. After all, his bike had survived everything from demon hordes to exuberant slayers, he was pretty sure it could handle one slightly nerdy cop.

"Ride it later McGee, we've got a case," Gibbs said as he blew through the bullpen. Everyone started gearing up and following Gibbs. Xander grabbed a notebook and a pen and followed. "Harris, you're riding with me," Gibbs said as he punched the button next to the elevator.

"Yes sir," Xander replied.

Gibbs turned with a major glare, "Don't call me sir."

Xander just looked him in the eye and replied, "Don't call me 'Harris'." Overall Xander had to admit that Gibbs was pretty good at hiding his emotions, but after dealing with Oz, the man was fairly easy to read. Xander caught the brief flash of surprise in the man's eyes and the whitening of the knuckles on the coffee cup. Willing to take his victories where they came, he backed off and kept his mouth shut. Ziva, Tim and Tony all walked towards another car, leaving Xander alone with Gibbs. Xander figured it was some sort of set up, but he was gonna keep his mouth shut and force Gibbs to tell him what was going on. The ride was a bit hair raising, but after ten years in Africa and, more importantly, Buffy shuttling him around Rome; it took some really awful driving to get a reaction from Xander. For the most part he simply looked out the window, trying to get a feel for the city and noting any street names that he'd been told were significant. Xander resolved to tour the area on his bike, when he had the time. Perhaps Gibbs had expected him to initiate conversation, or maybe he had hoped his driving would get Xander off his game, regardless he stayed silent and simply turned to Gibbs for instructions when they stopped. "Stay out here and check the crowd and take witness statements," Gibbs ground out, as though he were reluctant to talk first. He then reached into the back seat and handed Xander a camera. "A Petty Officer is dead and we're not sure if it's murder or suicide."

Xander just nodded and stepped out of the car. It was a fairly generic apartment complex that would have seemed perfectly ordinary except for the presence of lots of people in uniforms and MP's instead of the Police. He watched as the rest of the team, including an newly arrived Ducky and Jimmy Palmer; went into the complex, then he turned and scanned the crowd, as he photographed them; before turning to the few witnesses and asking questions. Nothing stood out for Xander; certainly the answers from the witnesses were generic enough. The Petty Officer, one Janice Lynch, seemed to be well liked by her neighbors; they were neither overtly upset nor singing hosannas at her death. She'd seemed to maintain a regular social life, a series of boyfriends; but none of them stood out, had regular habits, and her only extra-curricular activity seemed to be bowling. He scanned the crowd one last time, giving everyone a hard look, but they all seemed to be the regular Looky-Loos that you got at this kind of thing and not someone who was observing their handiwork, he'd seen enough morbidly curious crowds in Africa to last him a lifetime. Notes secure and crowd scanned, he walked up and poked his head into Petty Officer Lynch's apartment. "Anyone need a hand," he called out.

Gibbs glared at him but Ducky called out, "Certainly dear boy, we've finished with the scene and you could help with turning her over."

Xander just nodded and came over, absently putting on the latex gloves that Jimmy handed him. "Okay, what do I do?"

"Just put your hands here hand here," Ducky said, indicating the girl's shoulder and hip, "and pull her towards you, slowly." Xander did and he got his first look at Petty Officer Lynch. She was cute rather than pretty, with blue eyes and mousy brown hair. It was difficult to tell the shape of her face, because her mouth was stuffed with pills and distorted the entire thing. Now Xander also understood why Gibbs had said that it could be either murder or suicide.

Xander stood up and absently watched as Ducky pointed out a few things to Gibbs and Tony added his two cents. Soon growing bored with the technical talk, he started to wander around the Officer's apartment. It appeared Spartan, even to him; with a few pictures and bowling trophies being the only thing that saved it from being completely sterile. Idly, Xander wandered back into the girl's bedroom. A quick scan of the closet showed that for all the talk of boyfriends, the girl's wardrobe certainly didn't reflect that. There was one dress and the only skirts he found were either uniform skirts or bowling skirts. The one good pair of shoes he found looked like they'd been worn maybe twice. All in all, Xander found the apartment a little sad.

"See anything interesting," Ziva asked from behind him.

Fighting not to flinch, Xander took a second to compose himself and answered, "No, nothing at all." He then turned to Ziva, noting the smirk on her face; she'd known that she had surprised him. "The locals seemed to think that she had a lot of boyfriends but her wardrobe tells a different story."

"So you know a lot about women's clothes," Ziva shot back.

"I know enough to tell that Petty Officer Lynch didn't have much of a life outside of the Navy and bowling. She doesn't have anything you'd wear to a fancy place, or even somewhere mildly fancy."

"Not bad," Ziva allowed, "where else have you looked."

"Nowhere, I was just poking around and seeing if anything jumped out at me."

"Then follow me," Ziva told him and then quickly and efficiently searched the bedroom. She looked in places that never would have occurred to Xander to search and explained how best to search different areas of a house. It was quite enlightening. It was also rather humiliating when she told Xander to search the top drawer of her chest of drawers and it turned out to be her underwear drawer. Xander kept quiet, figuring that it was payback for this morning and rifled through the collected bras and panties. The all cotton and pastel selection confirmed to Xander his earlier conclusion that the Petty Officer didn't get out much. He said as much to Ziva and managed to do so without blushing.

"You all done in here," Gibbs suddenly asked from the doorway.

This time Xander didn't even flinch, "I guess." He turned to Ziva, "You're the pro here, are we done?"

"Yes, we are finished," Ziva replied coolly.

"So what do you think Harris?"

"About this case or the process, sir," Xander replied, emphasizing the last word.

He saw Gibbs hand tighten on the doorway, but otherwise the man made no response to Xander's jab. "This case."

"I'm not sure, there's something bugging me about the whole thing and I need some time to figure it out."

Gibbs paused, usually the newbies tried to impress him with what they knew or suspected; rarely did they take the time to think about what they'd seen. Harris had surprised him again. "Fair enough, you're with me again."

Xander didn't say a word as he followed the man back through the apartment and out to Gibbs' car. Xander noted that for cops, they got pretty snazzy company cars. The ensuing drive was silent as Xander pondered what he'd seen and Gibbs pondered what he'd seen in Xander. They got back to the Navy Yard and Xander went to his desk while Gibbs got out on another floor, presumably to see Abby. Something was tickling Xander's spidey sense, but for the life of him, he couldn't chase it down. He was still silently mulling things over at his desk when Gibbs walked up and asked, "So what do we know?"

"Janet Lynch, age twenty seven, brown hair and blue eyes; been in the Navy since high school which was in Grand Rapids Michigan, never married and based out of the Pentagon;" McGee rattled off.

"No family living," DiNozzo continued, "drives an old Mercury Capri which is being towed in even as we speak. Lived in military housing since she joined, apartment was completely vanilla, refrigerator full, apparently died of a drug overdose which may or may not have been intentional.

Everyone turned to Xander so he went with what he knew. "No complaints from the neighbors, no one heard anything. They said he had a lot of boyfriends which really surprises given her wardrobe."

"So you know a lot about women's clothing," Tony asked with a smirk.

"Most of my friends are female," Xander replied easily. "And one thing I do know is that the mousiest girl in the world still has a couple of 'out there' outfits just in case she decides to let he freak flag fly. Petty Officer Lynch didn't have anything like that unless you consider bowling skirts sexy." Then it hit him, what didn't make sense. "There's something we're missing," he muttered.

"Explain," Gibbs ordered.

"Well, the one thing the neighbors agreed on was that she had an active social life, a lot of different guys were in and out. But from looking at her wardrobe, Mother Teressa had a more active social life. There's something here that we're not seeing," he concluded.

"Like what?"

"No idea," Xander replied

"Well then get me some answers," Gibbs concluded and headed off to the elevator. Ziva picked up her phone, McGee got on line and Tony muttered "on it boss," as he headed out the door. This left Xander unsure about what he should be doing, so rather than just sit and play tetris, he went over the crime scene photos, at least the one's he had access to. He was staring at a long view of where the body had been found when he noticed something, or rather didn't see something that should have been there. Just making sure, he called over to Tim.

"Hey, McGee."

"Yeah, Xander?"

"Was anything moved or taken away before this picture was taken," he asked, holding up the printed copy of the photograph.

"No, you photograph the whole scene before anything is touched. That way if there's ever any question then you can just refer back to the picture." He leaned towards Xander, "That's why the boss is so testy with the local LEO's, they tend to move stuff around before we get there. Not to be jerks," he added quickly, "but they'll cover the body out of a sense of propriety and accidentally compromise the scene or something like that."

"Context," Xander said with a nod.

"Exactly," McGee said and went back to whatever he was doing.

Xander looked back at the picture, so it was murder.

BTVE-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

After fruitlessly sifting through the crime scene photos for two hours, Xander and the others were called down to Autopsy. As they filed in, Xander absently noted that Ziva had either stood or walked behind him the entire time, clearly there were still trust issues to deal with. "Okay Ducky," Gibbs spoke up.

"Well as suspected, Petty Officer Lynch died of an overdose. Specifically it was Eszopiclone, otherwise known as Lunesta."

"The sleep aid," McGee asked.

"Yes, although whether or not it works is a question for another time," Ducky answered. "In a sufficiently large dose it can cause ventricular fibrillation of the heart or cardiac arrest."

"Did she have a prescription for it," Ziva asked.

"Yes she did," Ducky replied absently as he peered at the woman's heart that was exposed in her chest. "In point of fact she seems to have tried to down her entire prescription at once."

"Whether or not it was voluntary is the question," Tony muttered.

"It wasn't," Xander replied.

Everyone turned to look him, surprise or suspicion or a mix of the two were on the surrounding faces. "You sure about that Harris," Gibbs asked.

"Pretty darn sure, sir," Xander replied. He handed out copies of the crime scene photo. "Now look at this and think like a suicide. I don't know about you all, but if I'm gonna off myself, I want to be as comfortable as possible. That would mean a chair, couch or bed; not lying in the middle of my living room floor. Second and most importantly, if I'm gonna die from swallowing pills, I'd like to have something to wash em down, not try and dry swallow the entire bottle. But there wasn't any liquid of any kind anywhere in the room, no wine, no soda, no bottled water. There even weren't any cups in the sink waiting to be washed so she hadn't had anything to drink before starting. No, this was murder. I have no idea why, but someone killed this woman and then tried to make it look like a suicide."

Everyone scanned the photos again, and concluded that Xander was indeed correct, there was nothing at hand to wash the pills down with. "How hard would it be to kill her with this stuff," Gibbs asked after a minute or two of silence.

"Oh, relatively easy I suppose," the ME answered. "Mix the drug in with some highly flavored drink and then stuff the pills in her mouth after she's dead. I saw something quite like this when I was stationed in Haiphong . . . " Ducky started

"But who, and why," Tony asked, interrupting the story before it could get started.

"Because she is more than she appears to be," Ziva answered. "Look at the contradictions we have here. She is supposed to have had a great may boyfriends and yet does not have the wardrobe for someone who is socially active. She had a prescription for a sleep aid but was in a relatively low stress job. If it were me, she is exactly how I would cover an agent, a drab little person in a drab little job; someone that would never merit a second glance."

"So you think that this some sort of spy op gone bad," Xander asked.

"I don't know, but there are a great many questions about Petty Officer Lynch that need to be answered."

"Then lets shake the trees," Gibbs muttered as he headed towards the door. As he passed Xander he also murmured, "Nice catch Xander."

"Thanks Boss," he replied with a grin. Then he headed for the garage. It was time to introduce himself to the local demon population and see what kind of information was out there.


	7. All The Fires pt 2

ALL THE FIRES, PART 2

Xander walked into the bar, he didn't make a big production of it; which was kind of unusual for him. Usually when Xander walked into a demon bar where he'd never been, he was preceded by either explosives, slayers or both, but today he was on a different kind of mission which required different handling.

"You lost buddy," the bartender asked the guy who was pretty obviously a human. They didn't get many of those and the few who did wander in never came back.

"Nah, I'm where I need to be," he replied, scanning the bar for the guy he'd been told would be here. Then he turned and faced that bartender and did a double take, "Damn, you look just like him."

"Look just like who," the bartender replied.

"Willy, this guy who ran a similar establishment in my old home town," Xander replied. "And could I get a Coke?"

"He's my cousin," the bartender replied, pulling the guys drink; but then the man went pale. A one-eyed guy from Sunnydale meant only one person. And that person had a damn scary reputation. "Look, I don't want any trouble here . . .," he started as he handed the drink over.

"Neither do I," Xander replied. "I'm just supposed to meet a guy and talk a little business, that's all." He smiled but the bartender was less than reassured; he'd heard too many stories about the man and what happened when he smiled. He watched as the man scanned the bar, some of the clients flinching visibly while others seemed indifferent, but only seemed that way. Eventually he saw who he was looking for and made his way to one of the back booths. Danny, the bartender, could honestly say he'd live his life in bliss if the one eyed man never darkened his establishment again; unfortunately he had the feeling that bliss would never be his.

Xander walked towards a booth in the back. The one figure visible reminded him of the alien that Han Solo shot in the first Star Wars movie; at least in shape. It was a dull green color with vivid, almost electric blue markings. "/Greetings, K'ntalth/," Xander said in a voice that sounded like he'd swallowed a kazoo during a horrendous attack of post nasal drip, "/may I join you/?"

"/Greetings Knight/," the demon replied. "You are welcome here," it continued in English.

"Thanks," Xander said with a sigh. "No offense, but speaking your language always gives me a sore throat."

"I understand," K'ntalth replied then gestured to a similar but more wizened figure seated next to him. "Be known to D'reanthel, leader of our clan."

"/Greetings Elder, I thank you for agreeing to meet me on such short notice/."

"And what brings you out of your usual haunts, Paladin?"

"A temporary assignment," he answered. "I will be here for a year or so and then to wherever the council sends me."

"And why would the Council need you here?"

"To learn," Xander replied quickly, "and to look into new ways of operating. Giles thinks that it is time to begin to be proactive, but to do that we need to develop intelligence networks so that we know where trouble will be coming from."

"You would not expect us to . . ." K'ntalth began heatedly.

"No," Xander cut him off. "We would not expect you to inform on other clans. It would be a bonus for us if you did, but I know that the repercussions could be severe. No, what we are interested in is the human part of the equation. If you or any allied to you would tell us when humans are doing things they shouldn't in the mystical world or when they seek alliances with powerful entities it would help us greatly in preventing much unrest and loss of life."

"And what would be the benefit for us," the elder asked.

"Aside from a more peaceful existence for all," Xander began, "well I'm sure that the Council has access to items and supplies that could be of some use to you and yours." And they settled down to some serious bargaining.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

As he was leaving the bar, his phone rang. Xander checked caller ID and did a double take. "I didn't know you had this number," he said.

"It was in the package that Roger sent me," Ducky replied. "I need to speak to you because I believe that our young Petty Officer may very well fall under your jurisdiction."

"Why would you say that," Xander asked, a little stunned by the direction the conversation was taking.

"Well, there are several anatomical anomalies, the most noticeable of which is the fact that she has multiple appendixes."

"Crap," Xander muttered. "Does anyone else know yet," he asked.

"No dear boy, Mr. Palmer has some family obligations to attend to and no one has come down yet, but it is just a matter of time."

"Give me ten minutes there Ducky while I find out what I can." A question then occurred to him. "What do you usually do in a situation like this; I can't believe this is the first time you've run across such a situation."

"Normally the evidence would be removed, with an appropriate code word put in the file so that any other ME would know what had happened."

"Well, hopefully we won't have to fall back on that one," Xander told the older man.

"Hopefully not, I always found it distasteful," Ducky replied, hanging up the phone.

Xander ended the call and hit 2 on his speed dial. It rang twice and then, "New Slayer and Watcher's Council, how may I direct your call?"

"Andrew please, it's Xander," he told the receptionist, thankful that it wasn't Ms. Worthington, he was on a timetable after all. There was the briefest of pauses and then Andrew answered. The last ten years had helped Andrew grow into a poised and self assured adult. Sadly he was still rather annoying so keeping him at a distance was always preferred.

"Xander," Andrew all but squealed into the phone. "What's up, how's Washington, are you getting along with everyone, did you meet anyone yet, have you got some impossible case and you need my help because I could be out there tomorrow . . . . ."

"Andrew," Xander yelled into the phone, shutting the young man up. "Yes, I'm on a case but I just need some information fast."

"What do you need," Andrew asked sounding completely different than he had just seconds before. Asking for information always seemed to calm the young man down.

"I need to know the demon species that can cross with humans and one of the side effects is multiple appendixes, and I need it in five minutes."

"No problem, I've got all that in the database," he said distractedly. Xander heard the hurried tapping of a keyboard in the background as Andrew muttered to himself, seemingly unaware or unconcerned that Xander was listening. After less than a minute Andrew replied, "Your species is a Klagarch. They're mostly found in Russia and aren't considered threats. The other major side effects are extra toes, some boney stuff on the inside of the skull and the pancreas is green."

"Weird," Xander replied, temporarily channeling Oz. "Thanks a million Andrew, I've got to go now." He hung up the phone before Andrew could say anything and was calling Ducky as fast as he could. As his fingers were dialing, Xander idly wondered if the Petty Officer had known of her demonic heritage or if she had truly thought that she was the victim of nuclear fallout. He could see how Janet could reach the same conclusions as he had himself and blame the Chernobyl incident for her anomalies.

"Hello," the old ME's voice came over the phone.

"Ducky, either she or her parents are from the Ukraine," Xander spit out as fast as he could.

"And how does that aid us," Ducky asked.

"I'm thinking that she's from the vicinity of Chernobyl."

There was silence for almost a minute, "Yes, I do believe that you're right young Alexander." His voice increased in certainty, "Yes, that would do very well indeed." A pause, "You are sure that she's from the Ukraine?"

"If she isn't then her parents are and that explains stuff neatly as well," Xander said, relieved that the solution had been easy for a change. He was certain that the Ukraine fit in there somewhere due to the girl's demonic heritage. Or at least he was banking on that probability being a fact.

"That it does," Ducky agreed, "while true, it guides everyone away from the truth we wish to conceal. Well I will wrap things up here and see you tomorrow Alexander. I will present my findings then."

"Thanks Ducky."

"No, thank you dear boy. That was quick work and you kept your head."

"See you tomorrow then," Xander said and hung up. Not wanting to push his luck, he got on his bike and went straight back to his apartment and made an early evening of it.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Okay Ducky," Gibbs started, "what have you got?"

"Well Jethro, something a bit unusual. Before I started with my autopsy I noticed that the young woman had six toes on one foot and seven on the other. That's unusual enough, but not indicative in and of itself, but then I found that Petty Officer Lynch had a grand total of four appendixes. When you combine these two anomalies, it leads me to believe that she was either conceived or born in the Ukraine and was affected by the Chernobyl disaster."

"Belarus, actually," McGee spoke up; everyone was listening to McGee so no one noticed Xander relax visibly when this little nugget was thrown out. "Southern Belarus to be precise. Her parents moved here about a year after the explosion and she was born two months after their arrival. Both parents died of cancer before they were fifty."

"So now we're thinking refugee instead of a spy," Tony asked.

"We're not thinking anything, at least not yet," Gibbs almost snarled and gave DiNozzo a smack on the back of the head to remind him of that.

"Sorry Boss," he muttered, then continued. "Her bosses like her, no black marks on her record and she doesn't work with anything sensitive so the sleeping pills are still a mystery. She's officially on three bowling teams, only one mixed, and I'm trying to line up everyone so I can talk to them."

"Take McGee with you when you do," Gibbs said, then turned to Ziva.

"There was no forced entry, so it is probable that she knew whoever killed her. There were no signs of sexual activity in the apartment, making the tales of multiple boyfriends even stranger."

Gibbs just grunted and turned to Xander.

"I've got nothing to add but I did have a thought. I was thinking that all the guys coming and going might not be boyfriends but a support group instead. I mean there are support groups for everything else, why not victims of Chernobyl or nuclear radiation or something like that?" He was hoping that Janet had been involved in something like that, otherwise he'd have to check and see if there was some kind of 'Partial Demons Anonymous' group that existed.

"See if something like that exists and check it out if it does."

"On it," Xander replied and everyone went their separate ways. Xander was hoping that the evidence led away from the fact that the girl was part demon. Part of his job was to keep the hidden world hidden; he shuddered to think of the train wreck that would occur if this team found out that demons existed. Xander got back to his desk and fired up the internet. Sure enough, there was a local support group for "Genetic Anomalies Due to Radiation" or GANDER for short. Idly Xander wondered what the deal was with people forcing their organization's names to make acronyms. The web site gave the address for the headquarters and a meeting schedule. He took a picture of the Petty Officer and headed out after letting Tony know where he was going.

Forty minutes later he roared up to a neat house in suburban Alexandria. Xander got off his bike and tried to look as unthreatening as possible as he walked to the front door; his size, the battered leather jacket and the eye patch all made that kind of hard but he tried. He knocked and an elderly Japanese woman opened the door, the burns on her face told him what had happened to her, and the fleeting expression of rage that flashed across her face told him to step lightly. "May I help you," she asked, in halting English.

"Mrs. Yamara," Xander asked, at her nod he continued. "My name is Alexander Harris, I'm with the Naval Criminal Investigative Service, and I would like to ask you a few questions?"

"In regards to what," she asked, polite but not letting him in.

"A Petty Officer was murdered yesterday. We're trying to fill in her associations and the evidence that we had suggested that she may be part of your support group. Her family was near Chernobyl when it . . . . did it's thing."

"There are quite a few of such people in our group," she answered, again polite but with steel behind the voice.

Xander held up the girl's picture, "Her name was Janet Lynch, she was a Petty Officer in the Navy."

The woman's control slipped for just a second as tears filled her eyes, but then the steel returned. "Yes, she was in our group."

"When was the last time you heard from her?"

"At our meeting, four nights ago. The difference in our age did not make casual conversation easy," she continued

"Was there anyone she did talk to regularly?"

"Yes."

Xander hated getting information in such dribs and drabs but he knew that if he got angry, the old lady would clam right up. "Could you give me their names or preferably their pictures so that they can be eliminated as suspects?"

"You suspect someone from this group," she asked, now the steel was right out there.

"This investigation is so new that anyone who associated with Petty Officer Lynch is a suspect. We would like your help in narrowing down the list of possibilities. We know that several gentlemen visited her on a regular basis. I suspect that they were in your group. I am hoping that one or more of them has information that will help us catch the creep that did this. So will you help with this or will you force me to spend time getting a court order for the information and risk her killer's flight?"

He could see the emotions warring in her, the signs were subtle, but they were there; idly he thanked Willow's grandmother for all of her practical lessons in guilt-fu. Mrs. Yamara looked him in the eye; her face hardened even more, she had come to a decision. "Wait here please, I will get you their pictures." The door was closed firmly in his face and he stood there feeling kind of foolish. It took so long that he was tempted to knock again when the door opened. Mrs. Yamara handed him a group photograph, four faces were intact, the others had been removed with a hole punch. "These men were Janet's friends; they all came from the same area of Russia."

"Thank you," Xander said, took a step back and bowed.

The steel eased up, but just a fraction as Mrs. Yamara inclined her head as she closed the door. Xander walked back to his bike, pulled out his phone and called McGee. "Hey Tim, are you anywhere near your desk?"

"Yeah, what do you need?"

"I've got some names and faces, what I need are addresses."

Xander heard some tapping and then McGee's voice, "Okay, what are the names?"

"Sasha Petrov, Sergei Salnikov, Ilya Ostrovsky and William Butler," he paused, "I suspect that the last one has been changed."

"Yah think," McGee asked, tapping away. "Okay, I've got three different addresses for their residences, apparently Petrov and Butler are roommates, but they all work at the same place. TLC, it's a warehouse complex down by the Potomac in Arlington."

"Warehouse complexes, that's the kind of place where they either hire guys who are just out of prison or the kind of guys who run when anyone from the government shows up; isn't it."

"Yep," McGee agreed, "have fun."

Xander hung up the phone, cutting off the sound of Tim's laughter. He was gonna have to be subtle. Xander hated subtle, it just wasn't him. He got back on his bike and muttered a calming mantra that a witch doctor had taught him several years ago. Minutes later he pulled up to TLC's offices, calm and collected.

TWENTY MINUTES LATER

A wild eyed Xander looked around at the four groaning men. He was holding a chunk of what used to be a pallet and looked mad enough to start using it again. "What the hell is the matter with you people, I just wanted to ask you about Janet Lynch and you start swinging. You idiots just decide to attack a federal officer without waiting to see what the hell he wanted, did all of you guys ride the short bus to school?" He reached down and pulled the one that looked to be in the best shape to his feet. "You, what the hell is your name anyway?"

"Sasha," the man mumbled out. The man's face looked a bit swollen with a thin line of bloody drool in one corner of his mouth. His left ear was almost crimson from where Xander had smacked him up side the head with the wood and he kept listing to the right due to some obvious pain in the ribs; and he was the best of the lot.

"Do you know Janet Lynch?"

"Da," he muttered, "She was like us."

"Radiation victims?"

Sasha's eyes opened wide and he looked searchingly at Xander for just a second. It was then that Xander knew that whatever else this guy was, a radiation victim wasn't it. "Da, radiation victims," he agreed.

"Did you visit her place often?"

"Da, we all did."

"She ever fool around with any of you?"

Here he suddenly looked like he was thinking about taking another swing and Xander knew how it was. She was the little sister to all of these guys and they wouldn't have slept with her if she were the last girl on earth. "So that's a 'no' then," Xander answered for him. "Do you know if she had a boyfriend?"

"I think so," Sasha mumbled. "We asked but she would not say, something was bothering her though. We could tell by the way she was acting."

"Any idea what?"

"We all thought it was this guy, whoever he was."

"Did you all ever see anything weird or anyone hanging around outside her place?"

"I did not, I cannot say for the others," here he indicated the scattered bodies.

Xander eased the guy down into a sitting position. "I believe you, but I may need to ask a few more questions if we don't get this cleared up soon. So tell the others not to leave town, alright."

"Da, I will tell," Sasha managed.

"Oh and a bit of advice," Xander said as he was walking away. "Wait until you find out what a cop is after before you start swinging. Otherwise you'll end up in prison or worse."

Sasha just nodded from where he sat.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

Xander was getting ready to head back to NCIS when his phone went off. "Xander."

"Get back here," Gibbs voice growled out.

"I was just about on my way, what have we got?" But he was answered only by a dial tone. Rolling his eye at Gibbs' antics, Xander jumped on his bike and in less than half an hour he was pulling into the Navy Yard. As the elevator arrived on his floor, the question hit him before he even stepped out. "Where have you been Xander?"

"Down at a warehouse getting the statements of four guys that were in the Petty Officer's support group for radiation survivors."

"And?"

"And all four admit to coming and going at odd hours. I've got their pictures and I'd be willing to bet that the neighbors could identify them as the 'boyfriends'."

"You like any of em for it?"

"Not really, they all seemed to consider her a little sister more than anything. What's going on here?"

"Real detective work there probie," Tony answered. Then he paused for a second, "Is that blood on your knuckles?"

"Yeah, the guys at the warehouse needed to be persuaded to talk. Now, one more time, what's going on?"

"Like I said, real detective work . . ." Tony started, only for Ziva to actually answer. "One of the men on Petty Officer Lynch's co-ed team is a Pharmacists Assistant."

"With both access to her prescription and the ability to extract and administer the active ingredient," Xander concluded.

"Exactly," Gibbs muttered, taking Xander's notes and the picture of the four men from his hand. He headed off towards a part of the building that Xander had never been to. At first Xander wasn't sure what to do, but the others were following Gibbs so he tagged along. "So who pegged this guy first," Xander asked as they walked.

"I told you, it was just good detective work," DiNozzo insisted.

"Meaning it was either Ziva or McGee," Xander translated.

Tony just shot the new guy a glare as the other two laughed. Ahead of them, Gibbs opened a door and stepped into a room, closing the door behind him. The others just kept walking and soon Xander found himself somewhere he had only seen in police movies, the room behind the one way mirror. He watched in awe as Gibbs interrogated the suspect, a rather non-descript man who could have been anywhere from his mid twenties to his mid forties; and within forty minutes the man confessed to the murder, justifying himself by claiming that Petty Officer Lynch had been fooling around behind his back. Xander then watched as Gibbs destroyed the man, informing him of Lynch's history and the support group. By the time Gibbs was finished, Xander was certain that the suspect would have only murmured a quiet thanks if a door to Hell had opened in front of him. He looked around and figured what the heck, "is it always like this?"

"Pretty much," Tim answered. "We don't usually do the interrogation thing until we have a lot of facts built up and once we fingered this guy, the case was fairly straight forward."

"The only thing I can't figure out is why she needed the sleeping pills," Xander asked.

"Things were getting serious between Petty Officer Lynch and Mr. Gamely in there, but she was incapable of bearing children," Ziva answered. "She was afraid that he would leave her because of it, but she also felt that she needed to tell him."

"What a mess," Xander observed.

"Just another day in paradise," Tony muttered cynically.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

Behind the NCIS garage.

"So you've ridden a motorcycle before?"

"Yes, I've ridden a motorcycle," McGee answered, looking a lot more nervous than he sounded.

"Okay then, this one's a bit different," Xander said. "It was designed for the military so the only thing you do with your right hand is brake. You run the clutch with your left hand. It's a heel/toe shifter, that's with the left foot; heel for shifting up and toe for shifting down. And you use your right foot to give it the juice."

"That seems simple enough," Tim said, settling himself on the seat. Xander then walked over and was talking McGee through the starting process. While this was going on Ziva leaned over to Tony and said, "I will bet you twenty dollars that he damages it to the point that it needs to be repaired."

"That's a suckers bet Ziva," Tony replied. "Of course he's gonna wreck the thing, the question is what's he going to damage."

"Wheel," Gibbs muttered behind them.

"I'd say handle bars," Abby chimed in.

"Well then, I'll go with the engine," Ducky said.

"Nothing," Palmer said. When everyone looked at him like he was crazy he continued. "Xander said he rode that bike all over Africa for over five years, I gotta think it can take whatever Tim could manage to dish out."

"Wrong," Abby said flatly and everyone muttered agreement. Then they all turned to watch the disaster waiting to happen as Tony and Ziva made their bets. They all winced when the inevitable happened.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

"Are you sure you're OK there Tim," Xander asked.

"I'm fine," McGee muttered sheepishly.

"Why are you worried about McGeek's health," Tony wanted to know.

"I just want to be sure that nothing kills him but me," Xander replied.

"That's not very subtle," Gibbs observed.

"A vague threat is nobody's friend," Xander quipped. "Besides, it would be justifiable homicide."

"I would agree with that," Ziva chimed in; and Tim started to look a bit worried. She then turned to McGee, "How did you manage to get a piece of steel through the gas tank?"

"I really don't remember."

"I hope you got some major royalties from your last book there Tim," Xander said to the young man.

"Why is that," McGee asked, now confused.

"They only made one thousand of these Timothy," Ducky answered. "And that was over seventy years ago."

McGee understood now, and blanched a bit as he did the math.

"Any problem with me leaving this here," Xander asked waving at his bike.

"As long as it's not permanent."

"It better not be," Xander said, renewing his glare at McGee. He then looked around, "Can anyone give me a ride home?"

"Where do you live?"

"Right now off of Bladensburg road, north of the Arboretum. I'm gonna be moving to a house near there in a couple of days."

"That's on my way," Ziva replied. "You're welcome to come along."

"Thanks," Xander replied with a smile.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

Ziva was surprised at how calm Xander was considering that she was going out of her way to provoke a reaction; not something that was hard to do in D.C. traffic.

"This is pretty calm compared to Rome," Xander observed. "Especially with Buffy driving."

"A friend of yours?"

"Yeah, since my sophomore year in high school."

Ziva wanted to continue the conversation but they had arrived at Harris's apartment building. "Here you are."

"Thanks Ziva," Xander said climbing out of the car. He turned back and stuck his head in the passenger window, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"I will see you, Xander," Ziva replied and drove off. She kept her eyes on the new guy and was surprised to see two young women come out of the building and give him a huge hug. Ziva suspected that there was quite a story behind those hugs and she would love to know it. But she was willing to be patient. She figured that she would need a lot of time deciphering Alexander Harris.


	8. A Circle of Light

A CIRCLE OF LIGHT, PT. 1

It had been three weeks since he'd ridden into work, and Xander was grooving on the feeling. It hadn't been bad, bumming rides from Ziva. In fact he'd started to really enjoy his time with the former Mossad operative. They seemed to like the same types of music and had scarily similar outlooks on life and Xander certainly had no problem cleaning his nails with a K-bar knife. But while that had been pleasant, he'd missed the freedom he had with his bike. It had taken Tim two whole days to track down the right part and after paying a small fortune for it, they'd taken the motorcycle to a repair place that Xander had heard about from one of the DC slayers. The custom work had cost another small fortune, but Xander felt that the end product was more than worth it; Tim still grumbled about the cost.

As far as work went, it had been an eventful but ordinary three weeks. The crimes had been fairly straightforward and had not involved people dying, and Xander had learned a lot about procedures and the handling of evidence and he felt as though he was starting to blend into the team. He'd also learned about the importance of forensic evidence, which led to the only problem he seemed to have both personally and professionally; Abby. For whatever reason, he and the Goth just didn't get along. There were no screaming matches or fistfights or anything like that, they just happened to mix as well as whisky and ice cream. Xander had no idea what to do and neither, it seemed, did Abby. It was just one of those situations where who you are grates on someone else's nerves and vice versa. The two of them seemed to work out a mutual truce with the understanding that they could work together, they just wouldn't be closing down any clubs together. No the problem with Abby was Gibbs. The senior agent obviously treated her like a daughter and probably thought of her in those terms and it seemed like as long as there was friction between Xander and Abby, there would be friction between Xander and Gibbs. The whole situation sucked, but life usually did.

The first day of having his motorcycle back, Xander almost bound into the bullpen looking disgustingly happy despite the fact that it was raining. "Morning all."

"You look happy to be alive there probie," Tony observed.

"I missed my bike," Xander replied. "I just needed the freedom and the adrenalin rush," he continued. "No offense Ziva, but your driving was too sedate."

"What," Tim let out. "You thought that Ziva's driving was too boring?" The others looked shocked and Ziva even looked slightly offended and Xander guessed she'd make her displeasure know at their next training session.

"Come on guys, after ten years in Africa I even have 'Driving Miss Daisy' flashbacks when Gibbs is behind the wheel." The absolute silence that greeted that statement told Xander one thing, that Gibbs was standing right behind him. "What's new boss," he said without turning around.

"Get your stuff," Gibbs announced, "and plan on being gone a while. We've got a case at the Greater Sandy Run Training Area."

"And where exactly is that, for those of us who are militarily challenged," Xander asked.

"Near Camp LeJune North Carolina," McGee answered.

"Any chance we'll have time to get some surfing in," Xander asked as everyone started moving around him. He held his face straight for all of ten seconds as everyone including Gibbs stared at him as if he were insane. Finally he lost it and after a good laugh said, "Hey, I'm from California and there's a certain image I have to maintain." He then turned to Gibbs, "How long till we're out of here?"

"Fifteen minutes," Gibbs growled out, once again just not sure how he should take Xander.

For his part, Xander just nodded, he'd expected cases like this and had an overnight bag ready to go. He called the Slayer house and let them know that he'd be gone for a couple of days and asked that they keep an eye on the place. He knew that this meant the senior slayer would probably live there while he was gone and take advantage of having a shower that she didn't have to share, but he figured that was the price of security. Then he retrieved his bag and the coat he had with it. It was leather, not as bulky as his motorcycle jacket, and a bit longer. What made it special is that it could hold most of his weapons and ammo without looking misshapen. He proceeded to load up, unaware of the growing silence around him. Only when he stood up and slid his sword into the pocket designed to hold the thing did he realize that everyone was staring. "What?"

"You're bringing all of that?"

"Well, I don't know exactly what I'll run into so I like to keep my options open," he replied. Then something occurred to him, "We are flying military air right, not commercial?"

"Yeah, we're flying military air there probie. What would you have done if we were going commercial?"

"I've got papers to cover all of this, but it's a pain dealing with the living brain donors that work for the TSA."

"That I'd believe," Tim muttered.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

The weather in North Carolina is beautiful in early October, unless you happen to be from California and have roughed it in Africa for ten years, then it was darn cold. Xander hugged his jacket around himself as they made their way from the landing strip to the crime scene. Gibbs had read the particulars on the flight, but now a local was reviewing the particulars.

"Major Mitchel was one of the senior instructors here, he taught survival skills, escape and evasion, that kind of thing. He was found this morning behind one of the out buildings with his throat all tore up, we weren't sure what got him but it wasn't pretty." As he heard this, Xander gave Ducky a significant look and the old ME just nodded, he would look for the blood in the mouth and take whatever necessary steps if he found it. The man was continuing but Xander wasn't paying attention. In his mind he was going through the action reports from the Council, trying to remember if there had been any activity in the area. He didn't think there had been but there was no way to be sure. He came back to the present as the group walked around the corner of a building and the local said, "Now here was where the body was found." He had indicated a scruffed, sandy patch of ground that showed some darker soil in parts, Xander was willing to be that those were where blood had soaked into the ground.

"We figure he was killed within a few minutes of PT ending," the MP continued.

"How do you figure that," Tony asked.

"Well he was definitely at PT and hadn't changed into his fatigues for morning chow."

"So how big a window are we talking about Sergeant," Ducky wanted to know.

"Half an hour sir, no more than that."

"And you have pictures of the scene," Ziva asked.

"Yes ma'am, they're back at the MP station but I thought you'd want to see the scene first."

Gibbs stood there for a moment, just staring at the ground; then suddenly he was barking orders. "Xander, you go back to the MP station and see what you can pick up from them."

"On it boss, you want me back here after I'm done?"

"Nah, we'll come to you or call if we need you. Ducky, you and Palmer go do your thing."

"Of course, Jethro," Ducky answered.

"McGee, you check the Major's computers, both here and his office and see what you can find.

"You got it boss."

"DiNozzo, you go over the scene with a fine tooth comb and see if you can give Abby anything to work with."

Tony just nodded and Gibbs turned to Ziva. "You're with me." And just like that, everyone had split up to cover their assignments. Xander didn't mind his assignment at all. Apparently he had a thing for seeing clues in pictures. Also, he would be the defacto liaison with the MP's. Gibbs would intimidate them too much and even though Xander was technically a civilian; his soldier memories helped him relate better to other soldiers than anyone else on the team. "So was the Major a popular guy around here," he asked as they started for the MP station, idly he noted that the tag on the man's uniform read 'Winslow'.

"He was a fine officer," the Sergeant answered.

"I have no doubt of that Sarge, but that really doesn't answer my question. He thought for a second, "But I guess it does after all. He was respected, but he wasn't really popular with the men, I've met guys like that." He looked back at the Sergeant, "But was he unpopular enough that someone would kill him?"

"I don't believe so sir," the Sergeant answered finally. "He really was a good officer and he had a knack for training but his . . . . . . interpersonal skills were lacking."

"So he stepped on a lot of toes just making it to Major," Xander murmured thoughtfully. They walked the rest of the way in silence, Xander wondering what the Major had done that had dead ended his career here. He probably could have pushed the Sergeant for more information, but Xander didn't believe that it would be worth it. He didn't want an adversarial relationship with the MP's from the start. They got to the MP station after about five minutes of silence and the Sergeant showed Xander to a free desk and handed him the crime scene photos. He started looking through them quickly, just to get an impression of what had happened. They mostly showed a man in his late thirties to early forties in a white T-shirt, fatigue pants and combat boots lying face down on the ground with his throat cut. The first thing that struck Xander was the wound itself, it was ragged and messy. This suggested either an old or dull knife or that the killer had struck several times almost hesitating between strikes. It was on his third pass through the photos that it struck him, there was something that should have been there that wasn't. He scanned the pictures again quickly and then called out, "Sergeant Winslow."

"Yes sir."

"Who was the photographer for these?"

"Corporal Bennett, he's walking the perimeter right now."

"Fine, I need to talk to him as soon as he shows up," Xander said, taking out his cell phone. He dialed quickly and started speaking Swahili, "/Have you started the autopsy?/"

"Just the preliminaries, why dear boy?"

"/There was no arterial spray,/" Xander replied. "/Not on the body or the surroundings. That would mean . . . /"

"That would mean he was dead when his throat was cut," Ducky finished

"/Exactly,/" Xander said.

"Well you keep looking and I'll make sure to look a bit deeper," Ducky concluded. "Thank you Alexander." And the line went dead.

"What the hell was that," Sergeant Winslow asked.

"That was Swahili," Xander replied. "I needed to talk to someone about something sensitive."

"We're all MP's here," the Sergeant continued with a bit of heat.

"No offense Sergeant Winslow, but at the moment you and everyone else on this base is a suspect. I doubt that will be the case for long, but until you and the MP's are cleared I' m not gonna help out the bad guy by letting what I've found out slip."

"And when we are cleared?"

"Then I'll personally keep you in the loop," he said, getting up. "But right now I've got to sit in on the autopsy."

"Can you find your way there, sir?"

"Yes I can Sergeant, and for the love of God call me Xander, please. I hear sir and I look around for someone to salute." Laughter followed him as he left the building.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

Xander just walked in as Ducky was removing the Major's liver, sadly it was far from the nastiest thing he'd ever seen. "Hey there Ducky."

"Hello there Alexander, I appreciate the assistance, but it is not necessary."

"I know Ducky, but I've pretty much gotten everything I can from the crime scene photos and I didn't want to push the MP's too hard for information, at least not yet. So I figured I'd offer you and Jimmy a hand."

"Was there anything in particular that you thought was worthy of a second look?" Ducky knew of Xander's reputation and nickname and though he didn't quite buy it, he was forced to concede that the young man's observations were uncanny at times.

"Well the wound actually," Xander said. Due to the ragged nature, I'm wondering if it was a dull knife or multiple cuts."

"Let me finish removing and weighing the Major's innards and we'll take a look," Ducky said after a moment of hesitation.

"You need an extra pair of hands," Xander asked.

"No, Mr. Palmer and I can handle this, so to speak."

Grinning at the ME's little joke, Xander just pulled up a chair and summarized what he'd learned about the Major from talking to Sergeant Winslow and the rest of the MP's. He was still working on that when the rest of the team walked in. "What have you got, Ducky," Gibbs asked.

"Not much yet Jethro, I was just about to check the neck wound."

"Cause of death, right," Tony spoke up.

"No, I do not believe so," Ducky replied absently. "Young Alexander noted that there was no arterial spurt either on his clothing or at the crime scene, this would of course suggest that the wound was post mortem." He hemmed and hawed over the thing for a few seconds and then said, "It was a very sharp knife, I'll need some time to determine the exact shape, but it was sharp. The ragged nature of the wound is because the knife was used quite a few times on the Major."

"Covering something up," Tim asked.

"I won't know until I get a better look at the neck and the underlying muscles, but all I can think of is that he was strangled or was killed in a much more subtle way and the killer hoped that we would take one look at the neck and stop there."

Gibbs just nodded and without turning said, "What have you got, Xander?"

"Well, the Major was well respected but not well liked. He apparently had trouble relating to others and that made him come off as an unfeeling hard ass. Multiple witnesses place him a PT the entire session, so the MP's timeline looks pretty solid. Also, while the MP's were clear that Major Mitchel was no one's favorite officer, they couldn't come up with anyone who was torqued off enough at the guy to kill him."

"McGee."

"A lot of E-Mail activity, it's encrypted so that will take a while. Honestly that looks like it was the only thing he used his computer for."

"If you encrypt something, it's because you want to hide something."

"True Ziva, but this guy was pure vanilla," Tony said. "You were going on about how sterile his house was. Maybe he just wanted his personal life kept away from the Marines, thus the encrypted E-Mail."

"Why would you create the illusion that you were hiding something," Ziva wanted to know.

"Lots of reasons," Tony started.

"A little sanity," Xander chimed in. "Maybe he needed the illusion that he had some sort of life outside the Marines and keeping his E-Mail encrypted gave him that."

"There is that," Tony conceded. "Or maybe he liked playing with other people's heads."

"What did he do before he got here," Tim asked. "It could be someone settling an old score."

Gibbs flipped open a folder and started reading. "Graduated from the Academy in 1989 and was a Second Lieutenant during Desert Storm, stayed in Kuwait for three years afterwards to help train the Kuwaiti military. Was stationed in Hawaii from 1995 to 1999, no notes in his file about any discipline problems up till then. After that he went to some code word project which must have been rough because he was put on light duty in DC. He went back to Iraq for Desert Storm II and after that came here in 2005 and has been here ever since."

"Isn't it kind of unusual for a guy to be in two shooting matches and a Spec-Op assignment and only get three promotions out of it? Not to mention the twenty years put in," Xander asked.

"Yes it is," Gibbs answered. He flipped through the file, "There's a note here about some sort of formal reprimand but most of its been blacked out."

"Must be related to the Spec-Op that he was part of," Tim guessed.

"That'd be my guess," Gibbs replied.

"Who filed it," Ziva wanted to know.

"A Captain Graham Miller," Gibbs answered.

Xander felt the blood drain from his face when he heard that name. He suddenly had a sinking feeling that he knew exactly what Spec-Op the Major had been a part of.


	9. A Circle of Light pt 2

A CIRCLE OF LIGHT pt 2

"Something you'd like to add, Xander," Gibbs asked.

The others turned towards him as Xander was currently cursing Gibbs and his observational skills in his mind. "Yeah there probie, you look like you've seen a ghost."

For the first time in a long time, Xander Harris was scared. Not because of some unknown demon or danger but because he could see with almost brutal clarity what could happen if he revealed the supernatural to these people. For a long time he'd been called the "One Who Sees", and for the first time he felt like he was living up to the title. If he opened the door to what was really out there, he would destroy these people. Tim and Abby would react with incredulity, they were both rooted too deeply in science and rationalism to accept what really went on in the world. The rationalizations that they would have to indulge in would lead them away from where they were comfortable to the fringes of science. They would both end up scorned and ignored, wasting their gifts trying to prove that what truly existed; didn't. Gibbs and Tony would go in a different direction. They would become obsessive, delving into the supernatural and trying to find everywhere it interacted with the mundane world. Xander figured that Gibbs would launch himself on some righteous crusade, examining cold cases and unsolved crimes to bring the non-human perpetrator to justice. Tony would probably take a route similar to Gibbs since, where it counted; the two men were eerily similar. Xander could see a future Tony going through the unsolved cases from his time with the Baltimore PD, hoping to find the creature that caused someone pain and taking it out of the picture. The problem with this course of action would of course be the mistaken emphasis on arrest rather than execution, both men believed in the system too deeply to do anything different. Xander could see them insisting on trying to nab the offending demon instead of just killing the thing, since neither of them would be able to accept the fact that there are some creatures that you just can't change. After all, you don't arrest great white sharks for chowing down on surfers. Animals are always true to their nature and there were a lot of demons out there that were just like sharks, they just happened to live on land and have the ability to talk. Eventually both Tony and Gibbs would die unremarked in some alley or basement because Xander knew that the average lifespan of a normal human that went looking for the supernatural could usually be measured in months. Xander figured that Jimmy Palmer would just play the denial game and move to a new job. As for Ziva, Xander thought that she was the only one of the group that might be able to handle the revelation relatively unscathed. She had the enviable ability to just go with the flow and the moral flexibility to do whatever had to be done, even if it meant execution on sight. Xander had no trouble what so ever picturing Ziva just blowing away a demon as soon as she saw it. Well all this was speculation for another time; the team needed to know about what had happened with the Initiative without realizing what the project had been all about or without Xander letting top secret stuff slip out. It was going to be a very fine line to walk.

"Something I'd like to add, yeah there is. Something I'm allowed to add, probably not."

"Your eyes only file," Gibbs asked with disgust.

Xander just nodded.

"You know Miller," Ziva asked.

"Not really knew him so much as we . . . . bled on the same ground." He looked at Tim, "Do we know where he is?"

"Miller," Tim asked. At Xander's nod he continued. "Right here at this base, he was transferred in two weeks ago. Oh, and he's a Major now."

"Just great," Xander muttered, closing his eye and leaning back in his chair.

"Tell us what you can, Xander;" Gibbs said in a surprisingly gentle tone.

Without opening his eye, Xander began. "This was the fall after my high school graduation. I'd been out of town for a while and when I got back, well things were a bit different with me and my friends. You see, they were in college and I was on the outside looking in."

"What does this have to do with Miller and Mitchel," Tony asked.

"I'm getting there," Xander said, still not opening his eye. "Anyway, both of my friends were taking Psychology and one of them was rather sweet on the TA for that class. In the end, it turned out that he was in the Army and the psychology professor was the civilian head of a project run by the Army out of the University. Most of the soldiers were young so that they could operate under cover and blend into the college campus without attracting attention."

"Why were they there," Ziva asked.

"I'm not allowed to say," Xander replied. "Let's go with they were messing around in someone else's sandbox."

"The NSWC," Tim asked.

"Among others," Xander said. "Miller was there from the start, or so I've been lead to believe. Anyway, things went to hell and the civilians in charge were killed."

"By the NSWC or others," Gibbs asked.

"Neither, it had to do with what they were working on. Anyway, the Army sent this Colonel in to take over. He was warned that things should be left alone and baring that, that help was available. He ignored everything he was told, but some of the men didn't. There was a loose working relationship between some of the men and the outside groups but eventually the project ate itself, and it was very messy when it went."

"How messy," Gibbs asked.

"Over forty percent casualties," Xander said. "If it wasn't for the outside groups and the help we provided, it would have been one hundred percent." Xander was quiet for a moment. "I still have nightmares about it, they're rare, but I still do."

Gibbs was stunned, an operation with forty percent casualties and an outside group or groups coming in and saving the Army's bacon. Well it was the Army, Gibbs mused for a second and then something occurred to him. "If this was run by the Army, then how did Miller get there since he's a Marine?"

"Honestly I'm not sure," Xander said. "My understanding was that they took men from every branch so that they would have enough operatives to choose from, obviously focusing on those that could blend into the college scene. So Miller was probably on temporary assignment or something like that."

"Well it gives us a place to start," Tony mused. "If Miller felt that whatever he did was worth an official reprimand then maybe he decided it was worth a bit more when he saw the guy again."

"If that was the case DiNozzo, then why didn't he just punch him when he first arrived?"

"Well," Tony thought for a second, "since we figure it was about that special operation, then maybe he needed a time when the two of them couldn't be overheard. So he waits until after PT and confronts the guy. Words are said and out comes the knife."

"But why carry a knife for PT," Tim asked. "If he had the knife when Miller confronted Mitchel, then that would suggest premeditation."

"Or maybe he was just being prepared in case the conversation turned ugly," Xander added.

"Either way, our first step should be picking up Miller," Ziva said.

"Okay, Ziva and I will pick up Miller," Gibbs said. Turning to Tim and Tony he looked at them silently for a second.

"McGeek and I will see if there's anything on the security cameras or if there are incident reports about Miller and Mitchel. Right boss," Tony said, standing up and pulling Tim up with him.

Gibbs turned to Xander but despite the glare, the young man asked; "Could I talk to him first?"

Gibbs glare intensified for a second and Xander continued. "He knows me and so he might relax a more around me than he would you. It might give you something that you didn't have before and it will also give the others time to find things that you can use in your interrogation."

Gibbs held the young man's gaze for a second or two, then just snorted and turned away.

"Thanks boss," Xander said and headed for the interrogation room at the MP station. When he got there, he didn't see Sergeant Winslow, Xander still needed to talk to Corporal Bennet about the photographs. Instead he checked in with the duty Sergeant and waited inside the interrogation room. He wasn't really sure what he'd say to Graham when he saw the man again. Miller had worked with Riley's group on an 'as needed' basis until about five years ago, then he'd just quit. It had been after a fairly bloody mission and Riley had speculated that it maybe had just been one Op too many. Sam, romantic that she was, thought there might be someone special and that Graham was just making sure that he came home to her. Xander thought, though, that Graham had decided on a direction for his life and that dropping out of the demon hunting business was just his way of focusing on what was important. Honestly, Xander had a couple of ideas as to what the man had decided; and that was one reason he wanted to talk to Graham.

Xander sat in the interrogation room, writing down questions that he wanted to ask. He found that a lot of them had nothing to do with the case. He was just getting ready to cross those off when he heard the knob start to turn. He stood and faced the door as it opened and Graham Miller walked into the room, it had been a while. The guy looked seriously pissed; something Xander understood because he'd seen how both Ziva and Gibbs could be with a suspect. Get them riled and then they tell you the truth just to shut you up, it was an effective tactic. "Harris," Graham said with total surprise coloring his voice when he realized who was in the room with him; "what the hell are you doing here?"

Xander motioned to the chair opposite him as the others left the room, Gibbs shooting him a bit of a glare on the way out. "I'm working a stint with NCIS," he answered. "Giles figured that we needed to learn how to investigate so we could see trouble coming before it bites us in the ass." He looked at the older man, "You know why you're here, right."

"Yeah, someone killed that douchebag Mitchel."

"You realize that you're the number one suspect don't you, a little remorse might go a long way."

"Yeah well, I'm not feeling remorseful and I could never fake sincerity." He leaned forward, "How much do they know?"

Xander looked up from his notes. "Well, they know that you and Mitchel were involved in an eyes only Op. They know that I was involved at the end. They know that Mitchel did something to piss you off because of the letter you dropped on him." Xander's eyes dropped back to his notes, "Who exactly was he, I don't remember him?"

"He was the 2IC, he came with the Colonel."

"And the reason behind the letter?"

"He hid Xander, when all that shit was going down and people were dropping like flies, he found a room and hid. He tried to claim that he was calling for help, but it's tough to do that in a room with no radios and no phones. I was gonna let it slide, after all that was a hell of a day, but then I heard him going on about how the operators had dropped the ball and I just couldn't let that go."

"So you accused him of cowardice?"

"Yeah, it got bucked up to some fairly big names because of the operation. They even tried to find you and Rupert for the hearing but you all were out of touch. Anyway, a lot of people who wear a lot of metal sat in on that and heard everything, his career was over from then on and I couldn't be happier about that."

"So you being assigned here was just a coincidence?"

"Yeah, I've got three months here as a training officer and that will round me out for Colonel."

"Congratulations," Xander said. "So, for the record; you didn't kill Major Mitchel?"

"No, I finished PT and then went back to my bunk for a shower."

"But no one saw you?"

"I'm by myself, I wish to hell I had a sick friend or cabin boy to swear about where I was, but I don't have that."

"Bummer," Xander said, sounding sincere. He looked down at his notes, "So what have you been doing with yourself. You've taken a lot of leave lately and when you do, you aren't visiting old friends. Heck, you barely made it to little Rupert's baptism."

"A couple of years ago, I ran into an old friend of yours; short, philosophical and still trying to reach E flat, diminished ninth."

"Really," Xander said, eye going wide in surprise. Oz had been off the grid for about five years; and Xander then realized that it was the same time that Graham had dropped the demon hunting from his resume. "How's he doing?"

"Well, I think I've actually heard him speak an entire sentence."

"Cool," Xander said, then he leaned forward. "Is that why you quit your night job?"

"Yeah," Graham said.

"I didn't know you swung that way," Xander observed, smirking. "Him either."

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

Gibbs was watching the interrogation, if you could call it that from all the softballs Harris was lobbing at the guy; when his phone rang. "Talk to me Abby," he said, opening the cell up.

"Gibbs, you're so gonna love me, well kinda."

"And why is that."

"Those fingerprints that Tony lifted off of the shirt, well I ran em through the military data base and there were no matches."

"How can that be?"

"I don't know, there weren't any hits on any database out there, even Interpol."

"So we've got someone on the base that isn't in the military and has never broken the law. But somehow his or her prints got onto a dead body, is that what you're telling me?"

"Yep," Abby replied happily.

"I can understand the 'kinda' now," Gibbs muttered as he hung up. His hand hadn't even gotten to his pocket when the phone rang again. "What is it Ducky?"

"Jethro, there seems to be a rather unusual substance on what's left of the Major's neck."

"Unusual how?"

"Well if I didn't know better, I'd swear it was saliva."

"How do you know it isn't?"

"Well the chemical makeup, specifically the acidity of the substance rules out saliva, but it seems to be quite similar."

"So you're saying that the killer drooled on the Major while killing him, or after killing him?"

"It would appear so, yes. But remember, wherever the drool came from, it wasn't human."

"Some kind of animal?"

"Possibly, I'll see if I can't nail that down."

"You do that Ducky," Gibbs said, hanging up the phone and turning his attention back to the other room. "What have I missed," he asked Ziva.

"Well, apparently Major Miller is not a homosexual; he has turned some family land in Wyoming into what amounts to a Kibbutz."

"A what?"

"I believe that you would call it a commune."

"Oh."

"And that their mutual acquaintance has had a profound effect on the Major, he is apparently a gifted therapist."

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

"So if not you and your guru, then is there someone else there who's grabbed your particular attention?"

"Why in the hell do you want to know?"

"I've got a bet with Ri and Sam," Xander answered honestly.

"You jerks, why the hell didn't you just ask me?"

"I think I just did," Xander retorted.

Graham blushed and that was all the answer that Xander needed, he burst out laughing. "Well good for you, and be careful."

"We are," Graham told the man. "So knowing that, who won the bet?"

"Sam and I are gonna split things when I see them again." He then turned serious, "So if not you, then who's your pick for Mitchel's killer. You've been here for a few weeks; you see anything that set off your spidey sense?"

Graham thought for a minute, "No idea, he seemed to be well respected and was doing a good job. He wasn't anyone's best buddy but I don't know of anyone that outright hated him."

"Except you."

"I didn't hate the man," Graham shot back. "Sure, I'm not gonna start a fan club for him but I'd never want him dead." Graham thought some more. "The guy screwed up when he froze, but he's been punished for it and he seems to have learned his lesson, so I'm satisfied." Just then there was a knock on the window and Xander headed for the door.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

A COUPLE OF MINUTES EARLIER

"Dammit," Gibbs muttered as his phone went off again. "What is it McGee?"

"Boss, those encrypted e-mails, they're death threats. Some group called 'The Circle of Light' wanted Mitchel dead for the crimes of his past."

"They say how they were gonna get him?"

"No, and the dates are pretty scattered, he replied a couple of times but really doesn't say anything."

"Okay, you keep working on those and I'll let Harris know, maybe he or Miller have some line on this group."

"On it Boss," McGee replied before hanging up.

As before, just as soon as Gibbs closed his phone, it rang again. "What is it DiNozzo," he growled.

"I've gone over the surveillance tapes again, and I've found Mitchel right after PT. He's talking to someone, I can't see the face but the guy is wearing stripes, he's not an officer and probably wasn't at PT."

"Well narrow it down for me and let me know so I can give Harris something." He hung up the phone and nodded to Ziva who rapped on the glass as the two of them left the observation room. A few seconds later, Xander joined them in the central area of the MP station. It took about a minute to pass on what they'd learned.

"Circle of Light, huh; not ringing any bells for me but I'll get the folks at the NSWC on it. If they went after Mitchel because of the Spec Op then they might decide that we're a target too. I'll ask Graham and see if they've contacted him as well."

"Any idea about the drool?"

"The only thing that comes to mind is a K9 unit. Dog bites the Major's neck and he bleeds out and the handler slices him up to try and hide the evidence. Most of the arterial spurt ends up in the fur and comes out when Lassie gets a bath."

"Does this place even have K9 units," Ziva asked.

"I'll ask," Xander said and turned to the duty sergeant. "Is sergeant Winslow on duty right now?"

"Winslow," the man replied with incredulity, "he's been on leave for the last two weeks. His wife just had a baby up in Pennsylvania and he's been with her."

"Oh shit," Xander said looking around quickly.

"What is it," Ziva asked.

"Winslow was the name on the uniform of the MP that walked us to the crime scene," Xander replied, his eyes darting around the station. He saw who he was looking for lurking near the interrogation room and reached for his gun.

The fake sergeant saw this and his eyes went wide. For just a second, Xander saw something around the guy's waist that didn't look right, something in the guy's mouth that wasn't a tongue and something in his eyes that wasn't human. Xander's hand stopped trying to pull one of his Colts and instead reached for the Super Redhawk.

The fake sergeant ran for the first door, which turned out to be the observation room; which he dashed into despite Gibbs yelling "freeze".

Xander raced for the interrogation room as he was pulling his gun, he needed to get Graham out of there before the demon got him. Xander knew that Graham was probably an expert at hand to hand, but he figured that Mitchel had been the same and it hadn't saved him. He jerked open the door and yelled, "Get the hell out of there," to Graham. Xander was aware of the yelling and pandemonium going on behind him, the MP station was like a hornet's nest that had just been kicked. He was sure that some of the "Drop its" being yelled were aimed at him, but he needed to get Graham out of there and then he needed to deal with the demon and the mission was his only focus.

For his part, Graham didn't hesitate. Reflexes that had been honed on the hellmouth kicked in and he was moving almost before the words were out of Harris' mouth. Xander grabbed his left arm and pulled him out of the room just as he heard the mirror shatter. He was obliquely aware of a body falling into the interrogation room.

As soon as Graham was clear of the door, Xander kicked it shut but in doing so he lost his balance and landed hard on his back. It hurt but he didn't drop his gun and his focus never wavered from the door.

A part of Gibbs brain noted that Graham had crashed into Ziva and the two of them were in a tangle of limbs on the floor, but his focus was on Harris and the hand cannon the man had in his hand. "Harris," he called out.

"Circle of Light," Xander answered and Gibbs understood.

Xander's focus never moved from the door and as soon as he saw the knob move he adjusted his aim and fired. The shot sounded like a mortar blast in the small station, and instantly, all other noise stopped. That way, everyone heard the body crunch into the glass that was scattered over the interrogation room's floor. Ziva had finally separated herself from Graham and was covering Gibbs as he approached the door, Xander behind them covering the pair. Ziva jerked the door open and Gibbs darted inside with Ziva and Xander right behind him. The room was literally painted with the guy's blood, and Xander gave a little sigh of relief that it was plain old red and not fluorescent purple or something like that. "I'd say ya got him," Gibbs said, putting his gun away.

Ziva had already dropped to the body's side and was quickly frisking it for Id or anything else like that; and incidentally confirming that the man had been wearing a C4 vest. "How did you know," she asked from the floor.

"When I made him, he glanced at his hand for just an instant and his middle seemed bulkier than it should be; and I just knew," Xander replied.

"Let me have the gun until all this is cleared up," Gibbs told him. Xander passed him the Super Redhawk.

"Why'd you pick this one," he asked with some curiosity.

"I wasn't gonna give him a chance to open that door Gibbs. I've seen what fanatics can do when they figure its time you died for their beliefs and I wasn't gonna let that happen here. So I went for that instead of my Colts."

"Good thinking," Gibbs muttered. "Okay Sergeant," he called to the desk sergeant, "let's get this mess cleaned up."

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

They'd gotten everything settled and were back in DC two days later, but Gibbs was worried. Not about the case, but about the kid. Harris had been uncharacteristically quiet in the days between the shooting and now and a quiet Harris was kind of like an introspective DiNozzo, something that just wasn't right. Honestly the reaction surprised him a bit. He knew that Harris had killed before and if the weapons were any indication, in much more up close and personal ways. So why was this shooting giving the kid fits? Gibbs didn't know. What he did know was that the kid needed to get his head on straight before he went out into the field again or he wouldn't come back. He just had no idea how that was gonna happen. He was just getting home after another day of the seemingly endless paperwork that follows any case when he heard a noise in his basement. Honestly that was far from unusual, but Gibbs was honestly surprised to find the kid down there. Harris was humming to himself and working on one of the more elaborate pieces with a plane.

"Not bad."

"Thanks Gibbs, I hope you don't mind."

"As long as you don't screw it up, plane away."

"Cool," Xander replied, and then worked silently for a few minutes. Gibbs just watched the kid work and maintained the comfortable silence. Harris seemed to reach a stopping point because he looked up and said, "I brought you a six pack as payment."

"For what?"

"Putting you through all the damn paperwork that was required after I killed that guy."

"The paperwork would be there anyway, if it's not about a shooting, they bury you in it for some other reason." Gibbs thought about what he was going to do for all of a second and then charged ahead, subtle he wasn't. "So is that what's got you down, the shooting?"

"Nah," Harris replied at once. "Don't get me wrong, it's not easy and I never want it to get easy, but that's not what's been bugging me." He was silent again, and Gibbs did nothing to break that silence. "Did you ever have a mission that you just couldn't seem to let go of," Xander finally asked.

"One or two," Gibbs replied.

"It's been over ten years and part of me had filed it away and considered the issues dealt with. But then this case comes along and resurrects all those old issues and you're forced to admit to yourself that they weren't dealt with, just hidden."

"Yeah."

"How did you deal with it?"

"I'd talk about it, with folks that had been through the same thing. So if this is interfering with your work; talk to Miller or maybe your own people and get everything out on the table. That's the only way you're gonna put things to sleep for good."

The kid just thought for a minute more and then nodded. "That sounds like a plan, thanks Gibbs."

"You're welcome."

"Oh and careful with the beer."

"Why?"

"It's from a microbrewery that doesn't filter its stuff, so the last swallow can be pretty gnarly."

"Gnarly?"

"California, remember; we're creative with our verbage."

Gibbs just sighed and for the first time in days, Harris gave an honest smile.


	10. I Have Faith pt 1

I HAVE FAITH pt. 1

It was mid October and the air in DC was starting to get nippy. Ziva loved this time of year, the weather in Washington was so different from what she'd grown up with. Of course it also meant that she actually had an excuse to wear jackets so she could conceal more weaponry, and that was always a good thing. She got off the elevator and froze as she heard a menacing voice say, "Seeing as how this is a Forty Four Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world and could blow your head clean off, you gotta ask yourself one question; do I feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?" She eased around to where she could see and there was Harris, looming over a cowering DiNozzo, but there was no gun; now Ziva was thoroughly confused.

Then she heard Tim chime in from the side, "Not bad Xander, and now that I see it, I do think Dirty Harry should have had an eye patch. It does make the whole scene more intense."

She rolled her eyes, movies again. It seemed to be the one topic that you couldn't shut either man up about. DiNozzo favored the classics while Harris tended toward the more offbeat, even drifting into Bollywood on occasion. She straightened up and walked towards her desk.

"So what do you think Ziva, was I more menacing than the original?"

"I do not know," she replied. "I have never seen the original."

"What, a cop who's never seen 'Dirty Harry', that's inconceivable."

She turned to reply but DiNozzo cut in, "You keep using that word, I do not think it means what you think it means." For some reason he was speaking in a strange accent.

To which Harris replied, "Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father, prepare to die." Then without missing a beat he turned back to her, "How could you have lived your whole life without ever having seen 'Dirty Harry'?"

Once again, Ziva was surprised at how Harris could banter to one side with DiNozzo or McGee without losing his place in another conversation. "I never watched movies growing up, and now I have better things to do with my time."

Xander recoiled in seeming horror. "Better things to do with your time than watch movies," he gasped out. Then suddenly his right hand blurred and before she knew what was going on Harris was brandishing an elaborate cross in her face and intoning in a fake bass voice, "Renounce heretic or be damned. Recant your heresy and embrace the brilliance that is the cinematographer's art."

Ziva rolled her eyes at Xander's antics while McGee and DiNozzo were fighting hard to hold back their laughter. For his part, Xander just brandished the cross a couple more times and then stood up straight. "It's not working," he said in an almost conversational tone. He gave the cross a shake and smacked it a couple of times with his hand, "I wonder if I got a dud," he muttered. It was then that Tim lost his battle and doubled over laughing, Tony was still quiet although his face was dangerously contorted. Even Ziva was fighting to keep her face straight; she had a reputation to maintain after all.

Xander was standing there, looking at the cross when his face lit up and he gave an, "Aha," of triumph. He put the cross back in his pocket and intoned, "Now we shall banish the demon of non-moviewatcherdom"; and whipped out an incredibly tacky Star of David. It was then that Tony lost it and joined McGee in whooping gales of laughter. Ziva was dangerously on the brink of losing it herself. Partially from Xander's antics but mostly from having to view what must have been the tackiest religious symbol she'd ever seen, the thing seemed to be made entirely of Rhinestones.

"What is going on here," Gibbs asked from behind Harris.

"I'm trying to exorcise the demon of boredom that has possessed Ziva, Boss," he replied without taking his eye off of his female colleague. "I can feel it weakening," he continued. "She's almost ready to actually smile, maybe even laugh."

Gibbs was about to reply when his phone rang. As he went to answer it the others straightened up with remarkable speed and moved to get what they would need on the job. After all, when Gibbs' phone rang, it almost always meant work. They watched as he listened for a minute and then hung up the phone. He stood and without saying a word, started heading for the elevator. The others fell in behind him.

"What have we got, Boss," DiNozzo asked.

"A guy in dress blues trying to rob a bank. They're not sure if he's really navy or not so we're just there to observe for now." The door opened and they filed on. Gibbs pushed the button for the garage level and said, "Xander."

"Yeah Gibbs."

"Don't shoot anyone unless I tell you to."

"No guarantees Boss," Xander replied with a grin.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

When the team got to a fairly large branch of the Commerce National Bank, the local LEO's had established a tight perimeter. The arrival of the NCIS team was not met with joy.

"You want to take over now that we've done all the work," one of the cops asked.

"We're just here to observe, Lieutenant," Gibbs replied with a pleasant; for him, growl.

"Do you all have any pictures of the suspect," McGee asked, opening his laptop. The Lieutenant, whose name was Ingram, pointed to a police tech van and McGee headed towards it.

"DiNozzo, go with him," Gibbs said. "Xander, Ziva, go keep an eye on the front line."

"And you Boss," Tony asked.

"I'll be here," he replied as everyone moved to their assigned locations.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

"So what do you think," Xander asked.

"It does not make sense," Ziva replied. "From what little we know, this man walked in alone and pulled a gun without any backup that we know of, with no exit strategy and in his dress blues; something that is bound to attract attention."

"A diversion perhaps," Xander said.

"For whom," Ziva wanted to know.

"Us," Xander replied, having an epiphany. "If you wanted a distraction, then just having the guy rob the bank would do it. But having it done in dress blues would insure that we would respond. Meaning that someone needs us out of NCIS; now whether that is to make us more vulnerable or to re-acquire something that we have, I can't say."

"That is assuming that this is not just some desperate cry for attention or just someone who wishes to die and cannot pull the trigger himself."

"Yeah, true enough," Xander conceded. "But there are easier ways to accomplish that. I just can't shake the feeling that this is just to draw us out for some reason."

Ziva looked at him for a minute. Her eyes were unblinking, almost as if she were trying to peer into his soul. Finally she nodded and triggered her radio, "Gibbs."

"Ziva."

"Xander has the feeling that this may be some sort of elaborate set up to get us away from our base," she paused. "I believe that he is correct. There are too many things about this situation that just don't add up."

"I was thinking something along those lines myself," Gibbs replied. "What do you all suggest?"

"Lock headquarters down now," Xander cut in; "and send me and McGee back to check everything."

"Why you two," Tony wanted to know.

"Because if there's something physical going down, then I can handle that and if it's something electronic, then Tim's the man."

"Agreed," Gibbs cut in before DiNozzo could protest. "Ziva, you stay near the front of the bank, DiNozzo, you cover the back and I'll be back up. McGee, you and Xander get out of here."

"On it Boss, Understood and two other acknowledgements went out over the radio. Then Tim cut in, "Boss."

"Yeah McGee."

"We know this guy. He's Lieutenant Bryce Armstrong."

"From when I was on the Seahawk," DiNozzo exclaimed.

"That's the guy," Tim agreed.

"Send me what you've got McGee and then get the heck back to the office."

"Right Boss," McGee replied.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

Ziva found herself surprised at her colleague yet again. He was a tireless worker when it came to learning the different fighting styles that she was teaching him. At times, Harris was picking up some of the nuances of a particular form with almost unbelievable speed. When she had asked him about it, he'd simply replied that he'd seen it done before; he'd just had no idea how to get his body to do it. And now, when presented with a field situation, he'd looked beyond the obvious and examined things from angles that frankly hadn't occurred to her. His actions spoke of a very sharp intellect, which was very difficult to reconcile with the buffoon that had been waving a cross in her face earlier. Ziva grumped; he'd even had the nerve to call her boring. She straightened up and started walking towards the perimeter with a pert look on her face, she was not boring, she merely preferred less juvenile pastimes.

Her eyes narrowed as she considered the bank and the surrounding buildings. She wondered how easy it would be to ghost into the building and end things without anyone getting hurt.

Gibbs watched Harris and McGee head for the car. He'd underestimated the one yed man again and Gibbs got the feeling that that wasn't a mistake he wanted to make very often.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

At first Xander thought that his 'Spidey Sense' had sent them on a wild goose chase and Vance's obvious skepticism hadn't helped. But when he was searching one of the storage lockers near the garage, he noticed something. It wasn't much, just a door fitting a bit loose in its jamb, but it set off Xander's sense that something was out of whack. "Tim, focus on the security around the garage, I've got a door here that looks like it was forced somehow."

"On it Xander, Tim replied. "What's the room number?"

"G-37," Xander replied. "I'm going in now."

"Be careful," Tim called out. As soon as he heard a muttered 'clear' over the radio he started talking again. "I've pulled up the inventory of that room, let's see what they took." Xander called out what he found and Tim checked it off, in the end, everything was there and the two were back to being confused. "How is that possible," McGee asked. "Why break in somewhere and then not take anything?"

"Maybe they needed some of the data from the computers and not the computers themselves. Or . . . ." Xander trailed off.

"Or what?"

"The purloined letter," Xander answered.

"What does that mean," McGee asked.

"It's a story by Edgar Allen Poe where they hid the letter with other letters, hiding in plain sight as it were. If you see someone walking into a room empty handed and then walking out with a laptop, you're gonna notice. But if someone walks into a room with a laptop and leaves with a laptop then you don't think anything of it."

"And who's to say that they're the same laptops," McGee concluded.

"Exactly. We need to check the security for someone walking in here with a laptop. Eliminate the ones you can and that's our pool of suspects. By the way Tim, what's in this locker anyway?"

"Most of its from when Tony was the agent afloat on the Seahawk."

"The same Seahawk that our Lieutenant served on?"

"That's the one."

"Now isn't that a coincidence," Xander mused looking around. "Meanwhile we need to clear this thing out, look for evidence and see if we can figure out what was messed with."

"That'll take a while," McGee replied.

"You got anything better to do," Xander asked.

It didn't take as long as the pair thought that it would. Especially once they shanghaied Abby and Jimmy Palmer to help out. Abby dusted everywhere for prints and Jimmy just lugged stuff around. By the time they were done, the rest of the team had returned with Lieutenant Armstrong in custody. Apparently Ziva managed to sneak into the building and get the drop on the guy where she had tased him into submission. Xander wished he could have been there. They were gathered in the bullpen while Armstrong was doing a good imitation of a clam in the interrogation room.

"What have we got," Gibbs asked.

"Lieutenant Bryce Armstrong," Tony started. "We ran into him five years ago when he was on the Seahawk. He was transferred from the Seahawk to the Pentagon three years ago where he works as a logistical specialist in the Operations section. He's seemingly well liked, doesn't have any black marks on his sheet and is slated to make Captain in the next year. He's married and has a daughter who's four.

"He didn't say much in the bank," Ziva took up the narrative when Tony finished. "Apparently he simply walked in, pulled a gun and announced that he was robbing the bank. Despite that announcement, he made no move for either the money drawers or the vault; he fired no shots and made no demands of the police negotiators. When I observed him, he seemed to just be pacing and looking at his watch."

"That fits the scenario that we've come up with," Tim cut in.

"You mean your 'Diversion' scenario," Gibbs asked.

"Yeah boss," Tim responded. "I was checking the security feeds and we had some failures with our security cameras and I've found evidence that at least one loop was played on the live feeds."

"Loop," Ziva asked, confused by the terminology.

"Like in the movies Ziva," Tony replied. "The robber takes a video of an empty hallway and then breaks into the security feed and plays it back on a loop so that all the monitor shows is an empty hallway while they can walk around without being seen."

"Which works great in the movies, but in reality it leaves traces that we can find," Tim cut in again. I've got some diagnostic stuff running right now to try and pinpoint where whoever it was compromised the security systems and how they did it. Once we get an idea of their methods, it tells us where they got their training and gives us a better idea of who to look at."

"While Tim was looking at the electronic side, I did a little walkabout," Xander started with his part of the story. "One of the storage lockers had been tampered with and so we did an inventory. Surprisingly everything that was supposed to be there was there, even though it had been forced open. We cleaned it out and are going to go over it more thoroughly because I believe that whoever broke in replaced whatever they took with a lookalike. What makes this really interesting is that the locker held items that were taken as evidence from the Seahawk incident." Everyone's eyes went up with that little nugget. "Abby dusted the whole place in hopes that someone was either stupid or arrogant enough to not wear gloves. She's also looking for trace evidence in the hallway that was shown in the security loop. We figured they had to have come in that way because of the loop thingy."

"Thingy," Ziva asked.

"It's an industry term." Xander replied flippantly. Then he looked at Gibbs, "One thing I don't understand."

"Yeah?"

"The Seahawk incident was five years ago, why were you all still holding evidence from it."

"Standard procedure there probie," Tony replied. "Personal items are returned after the situation is resolved, but items like computers that ultimately belong to Uncle Sam are kept for seven years and then refurbished and reissued."

"So if you take someone's computer, do you reload their files on a new one or are they expected to do that themselves?"

"They do that themselves," Gibbs replied. "There are some pretty strict regulations about unauthorized uses of Government property."

"Even things like family photos and that kind of thing?"

"There's a bit of leeway built due to the superior's discretion, put personal touches like that are discouraged."

"So if someone had something unauthorized on his computer and you all took it, they'd be in trouble if you searched the thing and found whatever it was?"

"Probably, what are you getting at?"

"Well, I'm just wondering about the timing. I mean it's been five years, why break in now. The case is closed and if something was gonna come out; it already would have done so. And if you were worried about unauthorized things on your machine, it would all be blanked out when the thing was reformatted. So why go to all this trouble, staging robbery just to get us away from the building and then the Mission Impossible style ops just to take care of something that either wasn't a problem or wouldn't be in two years?"

Gibbs stood there for a second, thinking about what Xander had asked, the silence got a little awkward but then he turned to Tim. "McGee, you go through every computer that was in here and see if anything was done to them recently so we can narrow down whose machine was taken or tampered with, get Abby to help if she's got the time." Then he turned to Ziva, "Take Xander with you and go talk to the wife, she might be able to shed a little light on the whole thing."

"What about me boss," Tony asked.

"You get to help me play 'bad cop, worse cop' and see if we can get the Lieutenant to open up."

"I love that game," Tony said.

"I'm driving," Ziva called out.

"You sure, you could ride on the bike behind me, I've got an extra helmet."

"It's raining," Ziva pointed out.

"So what's your point," Xander asked with a grin.

Ziva just rolled her eyes and wondered about the flexible maturity of her new team-mate as she dangled a set of keys and walked out of the room. With a grin, Xander followed her.


	11. I Have Faith pt 2

I Have Faith pt. 2

AT NCIS

As they were walking towards the interrogation room, to have another go a Lt. Armstrong, Tony asked, "Could I be worse cop this time?" He was still waiting for Gibbs to say something when he felt a hand smack the back of his head. "Right Boss, I'm the bad cop."

Gibbs gave a little smirk as he paused at the door to the observation room and watched DiNozzo scurry past. As he entered the observation room, he noted that Lt. Armstrong hadn't moved, had barely changed his expression. For whatever reason the man was not relaxing at all, which told Gibbs that despite appearances, whatever was going on was still playing out.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

"It's been a while Lieutenant," DiNozzo said as he ambled into the room. "You made a pretty good impression on the Seahawk," he paused and noted the increased tension in the officer when the ship had been named. "This new look is a bit of a letdown." Tony pulled up a chair and opened the file, seeming to pay attention to it rather than Armstrong. The truth was, though, that he was focused on the Lieutenant with an almost frightening intensity. People who were just acquaintances with DiNozzo would have been surprised at this, but like Xander (and Ogre's) he had layers. With seeming indifference he started speaking again. "You know, for a guy who specializes in operational logistics, your plan pretty much sucked. You walk in with no backup, no exit and no real idea of what you were doing; now normally I'd say you were too smart to do anything like that but anyone dumb enough to jeopardize your relationship with a hottie like your wife, not to mention your daughter; is stupid enough to do anything."

DiNozzo pulled the picture of Armstrong's wife out and was lecherously scanning it. "I mean really, how long after you're in Leavenworth do you think she'll be going out with someone else. Come on, a total biscuit like this; heck, I might even help her in her 'grief therapy'," he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Gibbs could tell that DiNozzo was getting to the guy, but what surprised him was that Armstrong tensed up more when the daughter was mentioned as opposed to when Tony was talking about hitting on the guys wife. Gibbs eyes widened at that. Armstrong was more concerned with his daughter right now than he was his wife or the possibility of going to jail; interesting. He'd let DiNozzo poke away for a while longer, looking for weak points that Gibbs could exploit later. It might take a while but he'd find out what he wanted to know.

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"Mrs. Armstrong, my name is Alexander Harris and this is my partner Ziva David; we're with NCIS. May we come in?"

The young woman, who looked as though she'd been through the wringer; just nodded distractedly and opened the door without saying anything. As Xander stepped into the modest living room, he wondered if she knew about what was really out there or was just distracted by what was happening with her husband. "I know this is a bad time, but could we ask you some questions so that we can try and understand what's going on with your husband." Again the young woman just nodded and sank down onto the couch, her eyes not leaving Xander.

For her part, Ziva was surprised again. She had thought that having Harris take the lead would startle the young Mrs. Armstrong into talking from the moment they showed up at her door, from his grim look if nothing else. But here was a rather intimidating looking guy giving off an almost tangible air of safety and caring. She shook her head; he'd surprised her yet again.

"Do you have any idea why he'd do something like this," Xander asked.

"No, we're doing well," Mrs. Armstrong replied. We're living within our means and we don't do anything extravagant."

"Pardon me for asking, but what about gambling, do you or your husband do anything like that?"

"Nothing beyond the office football pool and that kind of thing," she replied quickly. "Neither of us have ever been to a casino."

Xander turned and gave Ziva a quick glance, then turned back to Mrs. Armstrong. "Could my colleague check your personal computer, just to see if he might be hiding anything like that?"

She looked like she was about to object, but just nodded her head again. "Go ahead, it's already up and running."

"Where is it please," Ziva asked.

"The back room," was the quick reply.

"I won't disturb your daughter, will I," Ziva asked

"No," was the brisk reply. "She's at my mother's for the time being."

Ziva just nodded and headed back in the direction that Mrs. Armstrong had indicated. There was something not right here but she just couldn't put her finger on it yet.

Back in the living room, Xander gave Mrs. Armstrong a sad smile. "I apologize in advance, but you know what I have to ask you about next."

"Bryce and I," she replied.

"Yeah, everything okay on that front, nothing extra-curricular for either of you?"

"No," she responded sadly. "It's been wonderful since he's been at the Pentagon. We've even been talking about having a brother or sister for Hailey."

"So nothing that's been setting off your 'wife radar'?"

"He's been distracted lately, just the last few weeks actually. But he gets like that when he's got an urgent project or something that he needs to get done quickly."

"And he didn't mention what was on his mind?"

"He wouldn't say and I wouldn't ask," she replied. "He takes his secrecy oaths seriously. Bryce says that it's as much for our protection as anything. After all, we can't tell what we don't know."

"True enough," Xander replied. But then added, "Assuming the bad guys believe you."

Mrs. Armstrong just nodded silently, tears leaking out her eyes.

Xander fought his instinct to comfort the young woman and just sat across from her as she wept.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

Ziva sat back disappointed, the computer; no, the entire house was completely normal. There were no hidden files, no cryptic E-mails, no unusual web sites visited, nothing that would suggest that the Armstrong's were anything other than a typical family. She got up and started back towards the front room but hesitated. Ziva shot a calculating in the room's direction, wondering if a little detour might be in order. Figuring that it was worth it, she tried the first door in the hall, and had to smile. It was the daughter's room.

Seeing it reminded Ziva of the very different room that she had growing up and her smile grew. The room was done in pink and white and was almost cloying in its cuteness. There was a literal mountain of stuffed horses on the girl's bed and similarly themed toys scattered about the room. Idly Ziva wondered how her life would have turned out if she had grown up in such a way as this girl was.

She started to leave, but turned back, something wasn't right. Her eyes scanned the room relentlessly, trying to discover why all of her instincts were screaming at her. Eventually her focus came back to the pile of stuffed animals on the bed. They were arranged in such a way that they would have to be moved whenever the girl wanted to sleep, which probably wasn't all that unusual. Ziva was still not sure what exactly was pushing her buttons when she realized that the animals were dusty. They shouldn't be. Just the regular movement of removing and placing them back on the bed should have prevented any accumulation of dust, but the animals were dusty; there was no doubt of that. This meant that the girl had not just been sent off that morning but had been gone a much longer time; Ziva's eyes widened at the implications of that. The most immediate concern was what to do with Mrs. Armstrong. Ziva's first instinct was to drag the woman down to NCIS and find out why she had lied to them, but she didn't go with that. Better to use the knowledge to get information from the Lieutenant and only pull the wife in if he refused to co-operate. With a plan in mind, Ziva silently closed the door and moved back to the front room, it was time to wrap things up.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

Ziva walked into the front room just as Mrs. Armstrong was finishing up a story about a vacation that she and her husband had taken a couple of years ago. "So have you ever been to the Outer Banks?"

"No ma'am," Xander replied. "I grew up in California and have spent the last ten years in Africa, up until this year I'd never made it to the east coast."

It looked like the conversation was going to continue until Ziva put her hand on Xander's shoulder; "We need to go."

Xander just nodded and held her gaze for a moment. To Ziva it felt like he was reading her mind; he could obviously tell that something was up. Then he turned back to Mrs. Armstrong, "If you can think of anything that might help, just call me at this number," he said, holding out a business card.

"I will," she replied. "I hope what I told you can help."

"I'm sure it will," Xander told the woman. Ziva chimed in with, "Thank you for your time and co-operation."

The two moved down the front walk in silence, eyes constantly scanning their surroundings. For both it was as automatic as breathing. They concluded that all was clear and got into the car and headed back to the Naval Yard. When they were a couple of blocks away, Xander asked, "So what did you find?"

"How did you know I found anything," Ziva asked. Long ago she had schooled her face to give nothing away, or so she thought. The notion that Xander could have clearly seen the truth in it frightened her a bit.

"I heard you give one of the doors a try. You were there a couple of minutes which means you gave it a going over and when you came back to the front room, your breathing was faster than normal; meaning you found something. So what was it?"

Ziva was dumbfounded for a moment or two. That he had come up with all of that from such a minimum of physical clues made her wonder why he was at NCIS in the first place. Clearing her head with a brief shake, Ziva told him what she'd found. "The girl has been gone for much longer than one day. Whether it is to force the Lieutenant to do what he did or because the wife knew what was coming and sought to minimize the girl's trauma, I don't know."

"Which way do you lean," Xander asked after thinking things over.

"The first," Ziva answered quickly. "I believe that someone took Lieutenant Armstrong's daughter as leverage to force him to go through with that farce of a bank robbery. That was used to draw us out and gave someone the opportunity to remove something vital from our storage. Who is behind it and why," here she paused. "I cannot say."

"I think you're right on the bean there," Xander told her. "It's a lot more probable than a man who specializes in planning trying to pull off the world's most half assed robbery which just happens to be at the same time someone takes the chance to break into NCIS. I just hope the others can shed some light onto who and how."

Ziva just nodded as they sped down the road.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Gibbs almost smiled as he walked into the interrogation room. It was something he had to fight every time he entered one because here was where he just felt right. Every time he walked in knowing that there were very few people in the world that were as good at this as he was. He'd let DiNozzo peck away at Armstrong for almost three hours and had learned a lot. That was DiNozzo's style, he'd just start talking about whatever and pretty soon the bad guy was telling him everything he knew just to shut Tony up. Harris' style looked to be the quintessential good cop, someone you just felt right opening up to and only afterwards realizing that you'd just hung yourself. Gibbs could and had used both of those techniques and was good at them, but ultimately he was a closer; the guy who didn't so much ask you questions as told you how you'd screwed up and the only sound you heard after he was done was the door closing on your life. He walked into the room with Lieutenant Armstrong knowing how the whole thing would go before he even opened his mouth.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

TWENTY MINUTES EARLIER

"What have you got for me Abby?"

"A lot and a little, Gibbs."

"Care to explain that."

"Well we've been over everything from the storage locker and we've got some information, it just doesn't make a lot of sense."

"Details, Abby."

"Well, first things first; there weren't any fingerprints or other trace stuff that shouldn't have been there. So whoever broke in was careful. There's still a couple of things to test but honestly I don't expect anything to turn up from them. So with that out of the way, we come to the computers. McGee and I tested all these laptops and we came up with the one that we're mostly sure was swapped out."

"Mostly sure?"

"Yeah, you see all of those things were our machines, but this one was supposed to have already been reconditioned and sold."

"And whose did they swap it out with?"

"Lieutenant Evans, the dead guy that Tony found in Columbia."

"So someone broke in and switched one of our old computers with a dead man's computer?"

"Yeah, it looks that way."

"And the hard drive?"

"Is exactly what you'd expect on something that had been cleaned and reconditioned."

"Any idea why?"

"Well that's where the 'little' part kinda kicks in."

Gibbs just gave a minor glare and grunted.

Abby frowned; she'd obviously disappointed her boss. "I do know who bought the replacement computer," she added, trying to dispel Gibbs ire.

Gibbs just raised his eyebrows and said nothing.

"It turns out that this machine was bought as part of a lot of ten laptops six months ago." She typed away furiously for a second and then said. "And the buyer was . . . . Durant's Trading Inc. They're based in Seattle."

Abby turned and saw Gibbs eyes lit up. Something that she'd come up with had told him something, something major. For a second he looked like he was going to say something, but he just leaned forward and kissed her forehead. Then he hurried out of her lab without bothering to tell her what was so important. 'Typical', Abby thought and went back to her machines.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

FIVE MINUTES LATER

Gibbs was on his way to talk to Leo when McGee ambushed him coming off the elevator.

"There you are boss."

"McGee."

"Abby seemed to have the computer stuff in hand, so I decided to look at the crew of the Seahawk because everything from this case seems to tie back to there."

"And?"

"Well the Seahawk is currently deployed in the South Pacific and has been there for nine months. So I went back and looked at the crew that had served with Lieutenant Armstrong but were no longer on the ship. There were five men from the enlisted rates and two officers that are currently in the area. There are also several who have retired but they're in different parts of the country and I've at least been able to electronically account for them."

"So who's here?"

"Well the five enlisted have just been transferred to different ships that just happen to be docked at the moment. I'm waiting to hear from their Captains; the two officers are Commander May who's doing a joint turn in intelligence at the Pentagon and Captain Nguyen who's finishing up a stint at Walter Reed."

"Finishing up?"

"Yeah, he's slated to be sent to Diego Garcia within the month."

Gibbs just raised his eyebrows at the news. "Wait for those calls McGee, and let me know what you find out."

"On it boss."

"Nice work McGee," Gibbs said over his shoulder. He saw the junior officer light up at the praise and then turned and headed up the stairs, he really needed to talk to Leo.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

"What is it, Jethro," Leo Vance asked as his head investigator came bursting through his door.

"I need some leeway here Leo."

"And why is that?"

"I think I've got an espionage case."

Vance looked up from the folder he was currently perusing, eyebrows raised. "Do tell."

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

FIVE MINUTES LATER

Gibbs was hurrying down from Leo's office; he needed to get his notes together before he confronted Lieutenant Armstrong. He was stopped by the sight of Ziva and Harris standing by his desk; obviously they had something. "What have you got?"

"Armstrong's daughter is not in her home and the mother's story is not true," Ziva blurted out.

"Any idea what's going on," Gibbs asked.

"We think that someone's using her as leverage on Armstrong," Xander answered. "But we don't know why someone would go to all that trouble just to break into our storage areas and swap out or steal a computer."

"I'm going to find that out," Gibbs said, with a shark like grin. He stood and arranged his notes and headed for the interrogation room.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

He walked in and took a good look at the Lieutenant. The man looked ready to hit something and considering he'd just spent the last two hours with DiNozzo, this was understandable. Gibbs dropped a file folder on the table in front of him and sat down, studiously not looking at the Lieutenant. He opened the file and perused a few lines, he had an idea as to what was going on, but until he heard it confirmed by the Lieutenant it was just a theory.

Gibbs finally looked up, his face utterly expressionless. "Where's your daughter?"

"What?"

"I asked you where your daughter Hailey was, Lieutenant."

"Joanne sent her to her mother's in Arlington."

"Yeah, that's what your wife said, but she claimed to have sent her there this morning and there's no way you could have known that. So let's try this again," Gibbs said rising from his chair, voice colored with contempt. "Where is your daughter, Lieutenant?"

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

"How long do you think it'll take," Xander asked the others as they watched Gibbs break Armstrong down.

"Half an hour," Tony answered immediately.

"I've got ten that says it's under fifteen," Tim chimed in.

"You are both wrong, it will take forty to forty five minutes for the Lieutenant to crack."

"How about ten bucks apiece," Xander said. "I'll be the bank and judge since I'm not betting. From," here he looked at the clock, "mark to fifteen minutes from now; Tim wins if the guy cracks. Fifteen to thirty is DiNozzo and thirty to forty five is Ziva's time."

"And if it takes longer," Ziva asked, giving him the evil eye.

"Then I keep it 'cause you all were wrong," Xander shot back with an innocent smile on his face. A smile that none of them were buying, still the idea had merit.

"I'm in," Ziva finally said, producing a ten dollar bill.

"Me too," said Tim as he was digging for his wallet.

"Ditto," said DiNozzo as he handed a ten across.

"So what happens when we get a name," Xander asked as he pocketed the money.

"We will bring the suspect in for questioning."

"When, it's already after nine right now," Xander observed.

"Gibbs likes to bring someone in when they are at work or in the middle of something else. It disorients them and that makes the interrogation easier."

"Well, you all will have to enjoy yourselves without me then," Xander said with a rueful smile."

"And why is that," Ziva asked.

"I have a prior obligation," Xander answered. The tone he used and the glare that followed it killed off any questions that were in the process of being contemplated.

"Don't forget rule three there probie," Tony said with a smirk.

"What's rule three," Xander asked.

"Always be accessible," the three of them replied at the same time.

"I never was much for rules," Xander murmured; his attention now focused back on the interrogation.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

They headed their separate ways after Armstrong gave up the name of Captain Russell Nguyen. It took forty two minutes which had Ziva happy and after passing the money over, Xander left a note about the next day on Gibbs desk, since he was wrapping up loose ends with Armstrong. The take down the next day was easy, too easy in fact. It appeared as though the good doctor knew that NCIS would be coming to call.

"Hey there Doctor Feelgood," DiNozzo said with smirking irreverence. "You remember me?"

"Indeed I do Agent DiNozzo," he looked behind Tony and saw that Gibbs and Ziva were there as well. "I take it that this is not a social call?"

"Nah, we need you to come down to NCIS and clear a couple of things up," Tony replied.

"Certainly," Doctor Nguyen answered immediately. He turned to a nurse and said, "I seem to have to be somewhere else right now; would you tell Doctor Tenent to see to my rounds please?"

The nurses reply of, "Certainly Doctor," was almost drowned out as Nguyen turned back to DiNozzo and said, "I insist that my legal advisor join me."

"That won't really be necessary," Gibbs drawled.

"But I insist," Doctor Nguyen repeated, then gave Tony a dirty look. "After all, you never know when someone is going to try and persecute you for something you didn't do."

Remembering their past interactions with the doctor, especially DiNozzo's, Gibbs realized that he couldn't force the issue and so he just nodded reluctantly.

"Excellent, then we'll see you at NCIS Agent Gibbs."

"Agent David will escort you there," Gibbs informed the smug man.

"I know the way," Doctor Nguyen retorted.

"Either she goes with you or you go in handcuffs," Gibbs said, coming to the end of his patience.

It looked like the doctor was going to say something else, but the 'Legal Advisor' put a hand on the doctor's arm and he calmed down immediately.

Seeing that the conversation was at an end; Gibbs headed out towards the cars, certain that DiNozzo was right behind him and that Ziva was already intimidating the good doctor.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

It was one of the most frustrating interrogations that Gibbs had ever watched. DiNozzo was at his best and was getting the good doctor flustered; but every time it looked like he had the guy on the ropes William Wyler, the 'legal advisor'; would open his mouth. When he did this, the question would be deflected, the point rendered moot or some clarification would be required. And because the jerk was actually a lawyer, Gibbs couldn't remove him from the room. What it all added up to was that DiNozzo would be run off track for a little while and Doctor Nguyen would have a chance to regroup. Next to him, Gibbs could feel Ziva seething; he knew that the former Mossad agent would love to have this guy in one of their rooms where the rules were a lot more flexible. In all honesty, Gibbs wouldn't have minded that at all. He knew that Abby and Tim were working on all the electronic and forensic stuff as fast as they could. Right now Gibbs was pinning his hopes on DiNozzo being able to stall this guy long enough for them to get him something concrete so he could nail this bastard. Because that was the other thing; there was no doubt in his mind that this guy was dirty. Just how dirty was the only question he had; that and where Hailey Armstrong was.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

"You know Abby," Tim said as he looked up from his terminal, "I want to be Gibbs when I grow up."

"What prompted that McGee?"

"You know he told us to look for some connection to China, well I was just wondering how in the hell he knew to look for that."

"You mean you found something?"

"Yeah." He pointed to a line on the screen. "LT. Evans computer automatically made contact with a server in Angola of all places. A server that we now know was controlled by Chinese intelligence."

"Kind of like a systems check, you mean."

"Exactly."

"So Evans was a spy," Abby asked.

"Nope, it happened after he was already dead," McGee replied.

"So there was a spy on the Seahawk and when they found out that Gibbs was on his way, they swapped out their terminal with the dead guy's so if anything turned up, Evans would get the blame," Abby said, warming up to the story.

"But since we seized it, there was no way for them to get it back. So it sat in our locker like a time bomb waiting to go off," Tim said, continuing the train of thought.

"Whatever encryption is on that thing was probably state of the art back then, but now would be found when we did the security check before reconditioning the thing."

"So our spy had to steal it from NCIS in order to cover their tracks because I'm guessing that there is something still on there that would lead us back to whoever it was. And in order to do that, they needed a diversion that would be sure to pull us all away from here. So they forced Lt. Armstrong to attempt to rob a bank in his blues, which would mandate a response from NCIS."

"And in order to force him to do that, they took his daughter," Abby finished.

"It all hangs together," Tim said after a moment's thought.

"And that would explain why the only prints in the locker were NCIS personnel or folks from the Seahawk." She turned to McGee, "Why are you still sitting here, Gibbs needs to know this."

"Abby, all we've got is a theory based on a few small bits of concrete evidence."

"Gibbs still needs to know this," she insisted, pulling McGee up out of his chair. "Now go sell it."

Given his marching orders, McGee hurried off to find Gibbs and Abby retreated to her machines, anxious to find anything that would help.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

Gibbs was about ready to charge into the interrogation room when there was a knock at the door. He gave a little grin, only McGee was that tentative; "What is it McGee," he called through the door.

"Umm Boss," Tim started, wondering how Gibbs had known it was him. "Abby and I have put some things together and we've got a theory about what's been going on."

"Let's hear it," Gibbs said, anxious for anything that would help.

"First of all, how did you know to look for a Chinese connection?"

"The company that bought the laptops is a known front for Chinese intelligence," Gibbs said, now what have you got?"

So Tim laid everything out for him, for something that complicated, it didn't take long. "There's just one more thing Boss."

"What's that McGee?"

"Well, if I were a betting man, I'd say that those two were prepared for all of this and that they've studied us and how we question witnesses. So if any of us go in there, they've pretty much got our play book and know how to keep us away from what we want to know."

"So what would you suggest?"

"Hit them with something that they're not prepared for or more specifically; someone they're not prepared for."

"Harris?"

"It's a definite possibility."

"Where is he?"

"He didn't say Boss; he only said he had a prior commitment."

Gibbs glare went from mildly perturbed to nuclear death ray in half a second and McGee wilted under it. He pulled out his smart phone and after a few seconds of tapping said, "He's at St. Peter's on 2nd."

Without turning Gibbs said, "Ziva".

Silently, the former Mossad agent left the room and headed for the garage. She knew that Gibbs would keep Doctor Nguyen there until she returned. Her job was to make sure that was as short a time as possible.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOO

The first impression that Ziva had of St. Peter's was that it was light. It was a gloomy day in DC and she had expected the interior of the church to be equally gloomy. But the white marble interior seemed to grab and multiply the available light so that the interior was bright. It was easy to find Alexander, he was in one of the middle pews and somehow the air around him seemed darker; the other parishioner's were giving him a wide berth. As quietly as she could, Ziva eased into the pew behind him and was leaning forward when he murmured, "What is it Ziva?"

Hiding her surprise at his detection of her, she whispered back, "Gibbs needs you back at NCIS."

Ziva heard him sigh, "Is it important, or is Gibbs just in a snit?"

"They won't tell us where the little girl is," she finally whispered back.

Without another word, Alex rose and moved towards the aisle. Ziva's moves paralleled his and she stepped out into the aisle just behind him as he was rising from kneeling towards the altar. Without a word or even a look, he headed out the front door, opening it silently so as not to disturb the others who were there. "I did not know you were a Catholic," she said.

"I came to it late in life," he replied. Then he turned to her, his eye flashing fiercely. "Now you have disturbed something that is really important to me; more than important, an obligation, so make with the splainy."

"What," she said, not understanding at all what he had just said.

"What the hell is going on Ziva," he asked; speaking slowly and clearly, like you would to a child.

Ziva could feel her own anger rise in response, but she forced it down and told him everything that they knew as the two of them walked to her car.

"So basically you need me to shake this guy up so he gives us the kid," Xander summarized.

"Exactly," Ziva answered. And then, with a wicked grin, she fired up the engine and tore out of the parking lot, breaking at least four traffic laws in the process. If she had wanted to shake him out of his funk with her . . . energetic driving, then Ziva failed spectacularly. Stopped at a red light and not being able to take the silence any longer, she asked; "Why was being at St Peter's today so important to you, what obligation are you fulfilling?"

Xander was silent for a moment, finally he said, "It was a burden placed on me by someone I respect immensely. I suppose you could call it my own personal Yom Kippur."

Ziva looked startled at this, Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. For the rest of the drive she wondered what Harris needed to atone for but wasn't sure she actually wanted to know.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

Tim almost flinched as he watched Harris get off the elevator. He was obviously not happy to be there and seemed perfectly willing to spread the bad feelings around. Harris moved through the bull-pen like a thundercloud, a worried looking Ziva trailing behind. Tim was just glad he was out here and not stuck between Harris and Gibbs; Tim doubted that he would survive the experience.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

Gibbs eyes flicked to his right briefly as the door opened. "Glad you could make it."

"So how sure are you about this," Harris asked with no preliminaries.

Gibbs thought it over, it was a fair question; "Nothing is certain, but I'd say this is pretty close." He looked over and noticed that Harris was focused on the 'Legal Advisor' as opposed to Doctor Nguyen. "Someone you know?"

"Little Billy Wyler," Harris replied. "He's a lawyer for the DC branch of Wolfram and Hart." He looked over at Gibbs, "They're just flat out bad, Gibbs. They're the kind of guys that give lawyers such a nasty reputation."

"How bad," Gibbs asked, surprised that he'd never heard of them.

"They were the primary defense advisors at Nuremburg," Harris replied calmly. "The fact that the Doc is associating with someone like that tells me that he's a black hat."

"So you ready to do your thing," DiNozzo asked as he poked his head into the observation room."

"In a minute," he replied; then Xander turned back to Gibbs. "I need you to promise me that no matter what, you don't stop me once I start."

Gibbs was taken aback at this, "You planning on doing something illegal."

"By your standards, yes." Xander continued before Gibbs could say anything, "But fortunately, who I work for and what I do gives me a tremendous amount of leeway. I won't exceed my mandate, but I won't be playing by the rules that you're used to." He looked at Gibbs closely, "Can you live with that?"

Gibbs thought about that, he had a tremendous respect for the law and the rules that governed how law enforcement operated. But if Harris had a legal foundation for what he was about to do, then that was within the letter of the law. "You're wasting time," was all he growled out.

Xander just nodded and left. He went back to his desk and pulled out his Walther and holstered it, then he pulled out a large, homemade looking knife and casually stuck it through a loop on his jeans. Finally he rummaged around in the main drawer for a moment and pulled out a piece of paper that had a lot of seals and things on it. Satisfied, he headed for the interrogation room; stopped outside and took a few centering breaths, and then opened the door.


	12. I Have Faith pt 3

I HAVE FAITH pt. 3

"Ya know Doc, I was ready to cut you some slack," Xander exclaimed as he burst into the interrogation room. "You know how it goes, wrong place, wrong time, bitter ex-crewmate; that kind of thing. But then you show up with this piece of crap in tow and that tells me all I need to know; that you're guilty of whatever you're being accused of."

Doctor Nguyen looked a bit surprised and taken aback at what the new man was saying, but Billy Wyler was completely stunned. "Harris," he gasped out.

"I'm honored Billy, I wasn't sure you'd remember me."

"It's hard to forget someone that shoots you in the ass."

"Well in my defense, I was going for the quick kill and aiming for your brain." He then turned back to Doctor Nguyen, "This guy was part of a team that was trying to kidnap underage girls in Rome. We got most of them but he managed to weasel away. So you see Doc, you're known by the company you keep and Billy here tells me all I need to know about you." He looked back at Wyler, "I will say this for him though, Billy is one of a dying breed, literally." Xander smirked, "Wolfram and Hart used to have twenty six offices scattered around the world, but in the last ten years that's dropped down to two."

"Three," Wyler spoke up.

"Nope, just two," and then Xander gave a sly grin. "You don't know, do you," the grin turned almost feral, "how marvelous." Xander started tapping on his phone. "Do you know how seismically active Lisbon is," he asked, almost casually. "It's one of the most active spots on the earth. "Anyway, this morning there was a little trembler that was focused near the waterfront north of town."

Horror was starting to dawn in Wyler's eyes while the doctor just looked confused.

"Now Wolfram and Hart had this beautiful solar glass tower on a crag above the harbor and I suppose that the earthquake caused something under there to collapse because the whole damn thing fell into the Atlantic."

"You're lying," Wyler said, shooting up out of his chair.

Xander just smirked at the guy and turned his phone around so the lawyer could see what was on the screen. "It's already made YouTube's top ten," he said with an amoral smirk. "Down to two there Billy boy and as I recall, Tokyo has a bit of an earthquake issue as well."

Billy Wyler said nothing; he just watched the images on the screen play over and over. He was wishing that they were doctored somehow, a fake or ploy; but he knew in his heart that they weren't.

"So Doc, here's the deal," he said in a jaunty tone and drawing Doctor Nguyen's attention away from his lawyer. "In about a minute I'm going to ask you a question, I'll be quiet and polite. You have one chance to answer this question. If you try to lie, bullshit, dodge or dance around then I'm going to shoot Billy here. And I'm not gonna shoot him in the head or heart or anything quick like that. I'm gonna shoot him in the gut. And while he is laying there, bleeding out and screaming in agony as his stomach acid works its way through his internal organs, I'm gonna ask my question again. If you don't answer a second time, I'm gonna shoot your ankles and then work the bones around a bit. Then I'll ask it again and if you still don't answer, then it'll be your knees and we'll just progress from there until you do answer my question fully and completely. Am I clear?"

Doctor Nguyen looked over at his lawyer, but the man's focus was still on the collapsing building. Then he looked up at the man in front of him and got really scared because there was absolutely no emotion in the man's eye. 'A lunatic,' he thought, 'they've locked me in here with a lunatic.' He decided right then that he was getting out of the room right now and stood up bellowing, "I am leaving right now, you cannot . . . . . . ." As the doctor stood up, he wasn't aware of any motion, but suddenly there was a huge knife, point first, at his throat.

"You might want to sit down and stop talking Doc, before you give yourself an inadvertent Tracheotomy," Xander said with a manic grin on his face but his voice was as calm as if he were ordering dinner.

As he slowly sat back down, the knife withdrew just a bit. "You can't do this," he sputtered, "I know my rights."

"Actually I can," Xander said. "Any chance that you had for leaving here or playing by the rules you're familiar with were lost when Agent DiNozzo left. When I walked in that door you started playing in a league that you didn't even know existed. So as of right now, your rights are exactly what I say they are." He fished out the piece of paper he'd picked up from his desk and waved it in front of Wyler. "Hey Billy, be a lawyer for a second and tell your buddy what this is."

Reluctantly Billy Wyler pulled his eyes away from what he'd been watching repeatedly and looked at the paper that Xander had handed to him and his eyes went even wider.

While Billy was reading and the Doctor was back to being confused, Xander picked up his phone and hit the speed dial. He waited for a few seconds and then said, "Harris, authentication nine, three, seven, seven, six. I'm going to exercise my protocol here in DC." He paused, listening. "There's an abducted child involved," he said quietly. "Tell her majesty thank you," he said after a longer pause and hung up the phone. "Okay Billy," Xander said, turning back to face the two men, "Why don't you tell your buddy what that piece of paper in your hand says?"

The Lawyer's mouth opened and closed a couple of times, finally he cleared his throat. "Essentially it's Carte Blanche."

Doctor Nguyen looked confused so Wyler clarified. "It's right up there with diplomatic immunity. Basically says that Mr. Harris can do whatever he wants to whoever he wants without repercussions or reprisals of any kind. Because he has dual citizenship and is a subject of the British Crown, it's signed by Queen Elizabeth; but it also has the signatures and seals of the Pope, the Patriarch of Constantinople and the Secretary General of the UN." Billy put the paper down, "Basically Mr. Harris here could march you out onto a stage and execute you in front of hundreds of witnesses and walk away a free man. He would, of course have to justify his actions to his sponsors but they are the only ones he would answer to."

"So now that we know all the players Doc, I just want to be clear here. I don't care that you're spying for China. I don't care that you're lining your pockets illegally selling pain killers on the black market. I don't even care so much about Armstrong. But what I do care about and what I want to know is." He leaned forward and as he did he drew his Walther and pointed it at Wyler. "Where's the girl?"

Gibbs had been fascinated the entire time. This was a side of the kid that he'd never seen before and frankly hadn't expected to see. Every time he'd seen or heard about the kid questioning someone, it had always been the soft way. Pleasant, low key and seemingly innocuous questions scattered throughout a patter of friendly conversation. But what he was seeing now was cruel and as hard edged as he'd ever experienced. Getting the lawyer out of the way first off had been a masterful stroke and once that was done then everything else had fallen together. What the kid was doing bothered Gibbs on a fundamental level, but if the lawyer was right, then Harris was able to do exactly what he'd been doing without overstepping his limits. Harris also had the brains to stay away from the topics of espionage and treason, keeping the entire conversation about the girl. Gibbs would focus his case on those two areas and they would be used to send the Doc away for a long, long time. That way Gibbs wouldn't have to worry about explaining away a pressured confession. Now though, Gibbs realized; they'd come to crunch time. Would the Doc give up the girl or would he think that Harris was bluffing somehow. Gibbs knew that Harris wasn't bluffing, but for the sake of his stomach and the cleaning bill, he hoped that Captain Nguyen had the brains to realize this.

Tim couldn't believe what he was seeing. He thought that he'd seen Xander's hard side when he'd shot the fake Sergeant or dealing with his motorcycle's repairs. But that was nothing compared to the feral, nearly amoral aspect his colleague was showing right now. Idly he wondered how Xander managed to keep it bottled up as well as he did. The coldly analytical way that he'd described the consequences if the Doctor should happen to lie scared the hell out of McGee, the total lack of inflection or feeling in his voice was even worse than the description of what would happen. As Tim was thinking about this and watching the spectacle unfold in front of him he had a revelation, he would make an awesome character in his next book.

DiNozzo didn't know if he wanted to cringe or cheer at what he was seeing. During his time on the Baltimore PD he'd wanted to lay a beat down on any number of defense attorney's. He, and most of the police, saw them as bottom feeding scum who liked to wrap up their lies in noble rhetoric. But playing "what if" with the notion was all the further he'd ever gotten. Now, at seeing one of his fantasies play out in front of him; Tony's elation at seeing a shyster get what he deserved was warring with his notions of right and wrong. Like Gibbs, Tony had a fundamental respect for the law, and that extended to what you were allowed and not allowed to do when interrogating someone. Seeing those rules getting trampled, mangled and just plain ignored; disturbed him a lot. 'But,' he thought, 'if Harris has permission to do this, then more power to him.' But it was an option that Tony would never take.

Ziva gave a little smile, this she understood. She'd found much to admire in the United States, some things that she'd expected and others that had taken her completely by surprise. One of the things she'd found that she didn't like here was the approach to criminals. She felt that Law Enforcement spent too much time worrying about the rights of the criminal and almost no time at all dealing with the victims whose rights the criminals had violated. What she was seeing now reminded her a bit of home and idly she wished that they would conduct more interrogations in this manner. She knew that they would not, but it was still something she could wish for.

Another part of Ziva was in awe as she saw Alexander's ferocity and formidable will come to the surface in a magnificently controlled performance. He was letting his darkness come out to play without giving it free reign; she knew that the amount of will necessary for that was daunting. As she watched Alexander break these men down, Ziva now understood why her father had said what he had. When he needed to be, Harris was creative, analytical and utterly ruthless; now she believed that Alexander was truly someone to fear.

He was thinking about it, of that Xander was sure. This creep in front of him was nearly convinced that it was a bluff; Xander could almost see the wheels turning in his pussy little mind and read what was going through it. Almost of its own volition, his thumb moved to pull back the Walther's hammer and cock the gun, and a cold, amoral smile crept onto Xander's face. In the silence of the interrogation room the sound of the Walther being cocked was clear, deadly and claimed everyone's attention. Everyone that is, except Xander; his focus was completely on Doctor Nguyen.

At the sound of the gun cocking, Nguyen stole a look over at his friend and lawyer and saw that Billy was scared. It struck the Doc right then that Billy really believed that Harris would pull the trigger. He turned back, a little disgusted with his friend's obvious weakness, when he made the mistake of looking in Harris' eye. It was arresting; but what grabbed his attention was the fact that there was no fury or righteous anger behind that gaze. No, what got Russell Nguyen's attention was what wasn't there; there was no feeling, no humanity at all in that gaze. It was as though he were face to face with a Python or a Great White Shark, there was not the briefest flicker of feeling and as he noted this his blood seemed to freeze in his veins and his bowels turned liquid and pure fear tore through his body. His heart quailed and his will faltered; Doctor Nguyen looked at the floor and finally spoke. "She's at my parent's old place," he started, "in Bethesda. The upstairs has been turned into a loft apartment; she's there."

"If we go there to get her, is someone gonna do something stupid, like shoot at her or us," Xander asked, not moving the gun one millimeter.

"Not if I'm with you," Nguyen replied.

"And Billy here, did he know anything about this?"

"Not really, all I told him was that I needed legal advice and someone to steer me through an interrogation."

Xander held his gaze for about ten seconds, and in that time no one spoke, no one stirred, no one breathed. "You've just met me and you're walking away; there are a lot of people who can't say that about the first time they met me. I'm turning you over to these other agents and you will take them to get Hailey Armstrong. If she is hurt, if someone tries to shoot either her or the agents that will be with you, then you will see me again. And I promise you this Russell, you won't be walking away from that one. Am I clear?"

Doctor Russell Nguyen tried to answer, but found that he could only nod; his brain didn't seem to be connected to his voice at the present time. Seeing the nod, Xander's thumb was moving again and the gun was uncocked and lowered. He stood up and turned to the mirror, that cold analytical look still on his face. "All yours," he said.

Xander started to walk out of the room but then he gave a little double-take. "Oh, I need someone to take me back to St. Peter's," he said.

"I'll take care of it, Boss," McGee said, turning to Gibbs.

The older man just nodded and said, "Tony, you're with me and the good doctor in there. Ziva, I need you to get the mother down here. Find out what you can about how the hell this all played out while you're doing that."

McGee met Xander at the new guy's desk; he was putting the Walther back into its drawer. "I can give you a lift, Xander."

"Thanks Tim," was the quiet reply.

Without another word McGee headed for the elevator, Harris right behind him. As the doors closed, Tony turned to Ziva; "You know, I think that's one of the scariest performances I've ever seen."

Ziva thought for a second and then turned to face Tony, apprehension clear on her face. "What scares me is the thought that maybe it wasn't a performance." And with that, the two agents parted ways.

The silence was growing uncomfortable, at least for Tim. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but he knew that most of them were overly intrusive; finally he settled on something that seemed harmless enough. "Xander, can I ask you something."

"Sure," was the muttered reply.

"Where did you get that knife, I've never seen anything like it."

Xander turned in his seat to face McGee; it certainly wasn't a question that he'd been expecting. "Well, it's one of the few things I got from my father that's worth anything. It's called an 'Arkansas Toothpick' and it originally came from the Civil War."

Tim glanced at the one eyed man, the request for more information clear in his eyes, so Xander continued. "My family originally came out to California in the early 1850's, kind of the second wave of the gold rush and settled near Los Angeles. When the Civil War got going, my;" here he started counting on his fingers, "Great, Great, Great Grandfather was in the First California Cavalry, which fought for the Union. They were stretched out from California to Texas during the war, mostly garrison duty and that kind of thing, but my ancestor's company was in Texas, which was heavily Confederate; and saw a lot of skirmishing. Anyway, the story goes that he took it off a Confederate that he'd killed and later passed it off to his son. Now the son carried it when he served in the Spanish American War. Then he passed it off to his son, who carried it when he served with the AEF in World War I. He survived and passed it off to his son, who carried it onto Utah Beach in World War II. He survived and passed it off to my dad, who carried it for two tours in Vietnam. And he passed it on to me and I've carried it ever since."

"So if you have a son, he'll get the knife."

"Or a daughter, yeah. They'll get the knife when I'm gone."

"Cool," Tim said as he pulled up in front of the church.

"Thanks," Xander said as he got out of the car.

As he was getting ready to shut the door, Tim called out, "Xander?"

"Yeah."

Screwing up his courage, McGee started talking. "That building that collapsed, that was in Lisbon, Portugal; right?"

"Yeah."

"And a couple of months back, you said your daughter was stationed in Portugal."

"I didn't actually tell anyone that, but yeah, she is." He then gave McGee a hard look. "Is there a question in there?"

Deciding to go for it, McGee blurted out; "Did she have anything to do with what happened?"

Xander held the man's gaze for a second and then just shrugged. "Most likely," he said and closed the door. McGee just nodded and drove away.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOO

It was after midnight that Gibbs finally made it home; it had been a hell of a day. He was looking forward to a beer or two and scraping up leftovers from his fridge when he opened the door. The first thing he noticed was the smell; someone was cooking or had cooked something. He followed the smell to his kitchen where he found a small mountain of Chinese takeout. He sorted though the various containers until he found something that appealed and headed for his basement after grabbing a beer. He walked down the stairs to find Harris furiously sanding away at what would become a rail. The wood dust forming a small cloud around him and much of it was sticking to his heavily sweating skin. "You want to tell me about it," Gibbs asked, sitting down.

Xander continued sanding for another couple of minutes and then abruptly stopped. He started talking but didn't turn to face Gibbs. "My fiancé was killed six years ago yesterday."

"And that's why you spent the day at the church; you're atoning for the screw-up that got her killed?"

Xander turned toward Gibbs, furious beyond words, but immediately stilled his anger. Gibbs had no idea what had happened. "No, not directly anyway," he finally murmured. There was silence again as Gibbs could see the younger man wrestling with the desire to tell what had happened and the fear that comes with reliving something like that. "We were working out of Nigeria at the time and a couple of our people went on what was supposed to be a milk run. Just dash down and pick up a package and get back, that kind of thing. But it was a set up," he sighed. "Someone, and I don't yet know who, asked one of the local bad guys to capture an operative of ours. That's one of the things that really pisses me off. Some agency in some country paid this yo-yo to snatch our people cause they didn't know who we were."

"Anyway," Xander continued," the guy was smart about it, he baited the trap and backed out of the picture and we fell for it. Fortunately our people got the signal out, letting us know what the score was before they were captured. Since we were the most senior operatives in the region; Faith, my fiancé and I went to get em. It had to be a small op cause we were kinda not welcome in the country, which meant covert. Anyway we get in and get our people back, but the guy was really prepared. It surprised us cause this guy was supposed to be small time, just petty stuff, one step above a cheap street hood, but he was geared up for World War III. So we're dashing for the border, because he's being real stubborn about things and it's clear we're not gonna make it before this guy's forces catch up to us." His eye closes as he remembers that last conversation.

"You know it's gotta be this way Xan," Faith said with some exasperation, her boytoy was being pig headed again. "You're better if we run into Government types and have to do the diplomatic jive and I'm better at holding these yahoos off."

"I can hold em off as well," he looked at the woman he loved; she was bloody and filthy and sweaty and to him she'd never looked more beautiful. "You've got a better than average chance of getting across the border."

"Not as good as you and you know it," she replied quickly. She then took his face in her hands. "You gotta remember the mission Xander, and those two," she gestured at the two injured slayers, "are the mission. I hold these guys off, and if I'm captured then I trust you to come and get me, but only after they're safe."

He closed his eye, he hated this, he hated everything about it. Most of all he hated that she was right. "Alright Faith, but you stay alive."

"No guarantees on that one stud," she replied with a grin; "but I'll do my best, and my best is pretty damn good." Then she pulled him down into a kiss that was both tender and passionate, "love you," she murmured.

His eye widened at that, she never used what she called the "L" word. She always claimed that everyone used the thing too damn much, especially guys who were just looking to get a girl to unlock her knees, so the number of times that she'd said it to Xander could be counted on one hand and that was after they were engaged. "Love you too," he whispered back, and just like that; she was gone. He turned and fired up the jeep's engine and raced for the border, praying the entire time that he would get to speak to Faith again.

"She stayed behind and held em off while I raced to the border. I hated it, but it was the smart play. I mean, I'm good; you've seen that, but comparing me to her is like comparing Jimmy Palmer to me."

Gibbs eyes went wide at this; it was hard for him to imagine a fighter who was that good. He took a sip of beer and waited for Harris to continue.

"I got to the border, loaded up and went back." He smirked, "I think I was out of the country for maybe fifteen minutes." He started slowly sanding the rail again as his voice became almost monotone. "I found where she'd made her stand, there were at ten bodies there and evidence that a few more were either injured or had been dragged off. But there was no evidence of her. So I raced after them, hoping that I'd catch em before they got to shelter, but I didn't. They made it to the hood's compound with a few hours to spare. I don't know if they didn't expect me to come after her, or if it was the hole that we'd created in his security forces but either way, I didn't hesitate when I got there. I just floored it and drove right through the front gate, ran down the guard and then right in the front door. I bashed my head and my knee in the crash, but I didn't care. I got out and killed the three men that were in the entry area and went looking for her. Unfortunately, the first room I jumped into was where I did find her."

A colt in each hand, he crashed headfirst through the double doors, rolled and came up scanning the room. His right hand almost moved of its own will and put one through the head of the one man in the room. He dropped bonelessly to the floor, but Xander barely noticed. She was here and she was dead. She'd been tied naked to an X shaped frame, her body was covered with too many wounds to count. He heard a noise near the door and snapped a shot with his left, again barely noticing the sound of the body hitting the floor. He'd failed her. He'd tried but he'd failed her. He closed his eye and felt anger rising up within him like a storm surge and with it the darkness he'd long held back. She was dead, and the ones who had killed her would pay. He would see to that.

"After I found her body, I just saw red. It was like an out of body experience, I was suspended in mid-air watching this guy who looked just like me killing everyone. And it wasn't just the soldiers, I killed the man's family, his friends; anyone who had the misfortune of being there." Xander flashed an amoral smile, "him I saved for last. It took two days for him to die, and I was there for every second of it."

"I made it back okay, someone must have been watching out for me is all I can figure because I wasn't stealthy in the least. Actually, looking back on it, I probably had one hell of a death wish right then. Anyway, I made it back but I couldn't help but blame myself for what had happened. I was in a bad way and wallowing in grief and self pity but I wouldn't admit it until a good friend of mine came by and knocked some sense into me, literally." Xander gave a sad smile at his recollection of Buffy literally kicking his ass all over Nigeria House and carrying on about how she'd had enough of brooding idiots in her life already.

"She told me that sometimes there are no good or bad solutions to a situation; that sometimes you just have to go with whichever option sucks the least. I started to heal after that, but then something happened; I started getting nightmares. Not about losing her, but about what I'd done to that man and his family and men. I was visiting my friend, who lived in Rome at the time; and she took me to someone she knew that she thought might be able to help. So I talked to the guy and he said that my problem wasn't the killing, it was the fact that I'd enjoyed it. My conscience was tormenting me because I had found pleasure in ending someone's life."

Xander paused, clearly thinking about what he'd been told. "He said that what I needed was atonement, accepting my sin, regretting what I'd done and seeking to somehow make amends for it."

"I got kinda pissy with him and said that I'd do it again in a heartbeat if they all happened to rise from the grave. He just laughed and said that he understood how I felt, but that what I should regret and needed to atone for was the enjoyment I took in their deaths. He had no problem with me killing those men; he compared it to putting down a pack of rabid dogs. No, it was the pleasure I took in it that was the sin. He told me that I should have acted dispassionately and professionally, not in wrath. I gotta say, I was surprised to hear him say that until I found out who he was."

"Who was he," Gibbs asked.

"This old Cardinal from Austria," Xander replied. "It turns out that when he was a kid, he spent time in Buchenwald when the Nazi's were doing their thing. He was a Jew, but he escaped and the local priest hid him for almost two years until the war ended. Afterwards he converted and became a priest himself and now he's the liaison from the Vatican to the NSWC."

"So yesterday was your day of Atonement?"

"Yeah," Xander replied. "I spend a day praying for guidance and strength, praying for their souls, praying for her soul; all the while keeping in mind the sin I'd committed. There are other things that I do, but they're scattered out over the year. Yesterday was the big one." Then Xander looked up from his sanding. "So how did things turn out with the case?"

"We got the girl back without any fuss; she's with child services for the time being until we can sort out who's guilty of what."

"How are you leaning as far as the Armstrong's are concerned?"

"We're still going over everything."

"Yeah, but how are you leaning, Gibbs."

"Dishonorable discharge and probation for him, probation for her for obstruction; they were under a lot of pressure and I wouldn't want to be on the prosecutor's side for that one," Gibbs replied.

"Who was holding the girl?"

"A Seaman Victor Heckman, he was one of the guys Nguyen used to distribute the painkillers he was selling on the side. Heckman claims that Nguyen arm-barred him into watching the kid, telling him that it was simply some sort of babysitting gig. Nguyen is trying to drop the whole kidnapping thing on Heckman and is maintaining that he was just a victim of circumstance and bad timing. We're still trying to sort things out as far as the timeline goes but we'll get it strait."

Xander nodded with a bit of a grin, "I have no doubt, and Doctor Feelgood?"

"He copped to selling prescriptions but is balking on the espionage and kidnapping charges."

"That I believe; minimum is life in Leavenworth, that's not a fun way to spend your golden years."

"True enough," Gibbs agreed. Then he looked thoughtful for a moment or two and asked, "Where did you get your little 'Get Out of Jail Free' card?"

"My friend," Xander replied. "When she heard the whole story she decided that there were times when we just needed to 'Take Out the Trash', whether some scumbag politician agreed or not. So we went to our boss and he approached the British royal family. Our organization has always had informal ties to the British crown, so my boss asked and they delivered. And as we've made alliances with different groups, we've just added their names to the list."

Gibbs looked at the younger man for a second or two, the answer was just a little too pat for it to be all there was. He didn't think that Harris was lying, but just not telling all the truth. Then it came to him. "It would also eliminate any problems if you just happened to come across whoever it was that set you up six years ago."

Xander looked startled for a second, and then a huge, artificial grin lit his face. "Why yes, yes it would indeed," he said, the artificial grin changing to something a lot more dangerous and a lot more believable.

It was a look Gibbs understood entirely. He finished his beer and picked up some sandpaper as well.

P.S. Just to be clear, Xander did not have the W & H building in Lisbon knocked down. But he did use the fact that it had come down.


	13. That I Come From pt 1

That I Come From pt. 1

Halloween had come and gone without incident, and things were calming down after the team's rather dramatic kidnapping/espionage case. Of course, Xander noticed that some of the team, notably Tim and Tony; were a bit awkward around him, as if they were afraid that he'd go postal no them at the drop of a hat; but things were slowly getting back to normal or at least what passed for normal at NCIS.

"So you're telling me that you grew up in Southern California and you don't know anything about college basketball," Tony asked incredulously.

"What can I say Tony, I was never much of a jock and sports kind of bore me."

"You didn't play any sports in high school?"

"I was on the swim team, but other than that, nope."

"Why the swim team," Ziva asked.

"My girlfriend liked how I looked in the uniform," Xander replied.

"Uniform," Ziva asked, confused.

"Yeah, a speedo," Xander shot back with a twinkle in his eye.

Ziva froze and seemed to go non-verbal for a moment or two while Tony and Tim chuckled at her discomfort. Tony then came back to the subject at hand. "So you have no idea about who's good or bad in the world of college basketball?"

"Nope, not a clue." He leaned forward, "So who do you like this year Tony?"

"Ohio State, of course," Tony said, with obvious pride in his alma mater. "Sullinger's gonna have a monster year."

"Didn't they get beaten in the championship by Kentucky last year," Tim asked.

"They might have," Tony replied.

"And they were eliminated by Kentucky the year before that as well," Ziva added.

"Yeah," Tony said with a huff.

"So it would be fair to say that Ohio State should win it all as long as Kentucky isn't there," Tim piled on.

"So you guys are saying that I should be pulling for Kentucky," Xander asked, twisting the dagger.

"No," Tony shot back. Only to be over-ridden by "Yes," from Tim, Ziva and Gibbs.

"Et tu, Boss," Tony asked, turning the mild puppy dog eyes at Gibbs.

Gibbs just looked at DiNozzo for a second and snorted. "Everyone up in MTAC," Gibbs said. "There may be a situation at NS Great Lakes."

Without a word the team got up and followed Gibbs up to MTAC, it was Xander's first time there and he thought that it was something he might get the Council to consider, mostly because it was cool as hell. He'd get Andrew to make the presentation and after five minutes, Giles would be ready to sign anything just to shut the geek up.

"What's the situation, Captain," Gibbs asked the older man in uniform on the screen.

"We've had four recruits killed over the last month, the same MO each time." The picture changed from the old guy to a close-up of a man's neck. There were two holes in it surrounded by very pale skin. "All four died from massive blood loss, apparently from neck wounds."

Xander turned almost as white as the victim when he saw the image on the screen. Here he was trying to get away from the supernatural and it just seemed to follow him around. He tuned out the conversation between Gibbs and the old guy in charge and took a good long look at the neck wound. There was something off about it. Then it hit him; the wound was too neat. There was no tearing around the wound, nor were there bruises or impressions on the neck from the other teeth; all of which would be present if it had been a real vampire attack. He was relaxing when he heard a too familiar word, "Sunnydale".

It was then that he noticed that everyone was looking at him. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I was a bit lost in the past."

"So you've seen something like this before," Gibbs asked.

Xander started to panic but he held it in. If he just stuck to the party line, he'd be alright. "Yeah, back in Sunnydale we saw this all the time," he began. "We had a heck of a gang problem and we didn't find out until later that they were sponsored and controlled by the mayor. Anyway, they would attack people with barbeque forks; it was kind of their signature."

"Why," the captain asked.

"Superstition mostly," Xander replied. "The mayor was very into the occult so he had the gang's signature kill look like a vampire attack. It kept the population scared inside at night so the gang could operate with impunity and the fear also worked to keep the mayor in power. It also let the cops know which murders to ignore. The cops on the night shift there were all in the mayor's pocket as well so if they saw a 'barbeque fork accident' it was filed and forgotten without any kind of investigation."

"And the mayor, what happened to him," Gibbs asked.

"He was killed in a gas explosion in 1999," Xander replied. The gang activity started winding down after that, but they were so entrenched in the town that it was impossible to clean em all out." Xander turned to face the Captain on the screen, "You might want to see if anyone in the area has a connection to Sunnydale."

"You think that some remnant of the gang found its way here," the Captain asked.

"It's a possibility," Xander replied.

"But why now, why wait fourteen years after things broke up?"

"I don't know; that's just the first possibility that came to mind."

The Captain changed his focus again. "Agent Gibbs, would you be willing to oversee this investigation?"

Gibbs paused for a second, thinking about their current load and said, "Certainly sir, we'll be there this evening."

"Thank you agent," the Captain replied and then the screen went dark.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Xander said, as soon as the picture died.

"What's the matter probie," Tony asked.

"Chicago, in November," Xander said, looking at his teammates like they were idiots. "It's colder than a Siberian welldigger's ass there."

"Actually, I believe the high there today was thirty five with a low of twenty three," Tim chimed in with his 'matter of fact' voice. "That's not so bad."

"Not so bad," Xander said as the others started to leave. "I'll freeze." He fell in behind the others, "Think about it. I grew up in California and spent the last ten years in Africa, eighty is a cool to mild day for me, I can't even imagine freezing; let alone below freezing." He then got a panicked look on his face. "When are we leaving, Gibbs?"

"About two hours," Gibbs answered. "Why?"

"I don't have anything for cold weather," Xander shot back. "God help me, I'm gonna have to buy clothes." He looked positively ill at the notion of shopping.

"Just be quick about it," Gibbs groused. "Xander," he called out as the younger man was hurrying towards the elevator.

"Yeah boss."

"You don't have to bring the entire arsenal," he said with a grin.

"Spoilsport," Xander replied as the doors closed.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

Shopping hadn't been as bad as Xander had anticipated. At the local Wal-Mart he'd gotten a couple more flannel shirts and some T-shirts to go under em. Then he'd lucked out and found a military surplus store and bought a couple of jackets, a stocking hat and some fingerless gloves. The piece-de-resistance, though, was an old Army greatcoat. There were still unit insignia's on the coat and Xander recognized some of them from the pictures of his dad and granddad. What made it perfect, though, was that because it was an 'Army' coat, it would really get under Gibbs' skin; something Xander was always looking to do just to get the guy to loosen up a bit.

What hadn't been as painless had been the call he was forced to make. Every report of possible vampire activity had to be forwarded to the appropriate section, and this meant a call to Cleveland. With a grimace he dialed his phone.

"Hello, NSWC; how can I help you?"

"Hi Alexa, it's Xander; can you get a hold of Dawn for me?"

"Xander, where are you?"

"Washington at the moment, but I'm on my way to the Chicago area and I need to run some stuff by Dawn."

"Sorry to hear that," the girl replied. She was a senior slayer and had been in Cleveland even longer than Dawn had. Consequently she'd been ringside for the great Xander/Dawn debacle.

Xander listened to about twenty seconds of muzak before the phone was picked up. "What is it Xander," Dawn asked.

Stifling the replies he wanted to make, Xander did his best to remain professional. "There are a group of wanna-be's north of Chicago. The group I'm with has been pulled in on the investigation and I need to know who's running the local house. I've been out of the loop on that kind of thing for six months."

"What do you mean, wanna-be's," she asked.

"Well, from all appearances, it really is a case of people killing other people with barbeque forks."

There was silence for almost a minute, then; "You've got to be kidding me."

"I wish I was, but that's really what it looks like. When we get there I'll look around to make sure, but right now my gut's telling me that it's a case of human on human." Xander had phrased things that way intentionally. He knew that given half a chance, Dawn would nit-pick his arguments to death with her superior knowledge of demon species but neither she nor anyone else argued with Xander's instincts. He'd been right too many times for her to be able to blow it off.

Most likely realizing that she'd been outmaneuvered, Dawn replied; "The head watcher in Chicago is Paul McGann, he's a new guy from Canada." Then she rattled off the house number and the man's personal cell number. "Now I want you to promise me to give them a call if you run into anything out of the ordinary."

The warning would have warmed his heart if her tone hadn't sounded like she was lecturing a four year old. "Ordinary for me, or ordinary for everyone else," Xander heard himself ask.

There was a pause and when she answered, it almost sounded like Dawn's voice had thawed a bit. "Ordinary for everyone else of course." She then added, "If you ran into what was ordinary for you, we'd be evacuating the city and probably most of the Great Lakes."

It took Xander a second to process the fact that he'd joked with Dawn for the first time in over two years; calling him stunned would be putting it mildly. Deciding to end things on a high note he replied, "No doubt. Sorry to run, but I've got a plane to catch, stay safe Dawn."

He almost missed her whispered, "Stay safe Xander." But he heard it and was smiling the entire way to Chicago.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"You just had to wear that coat, didn't you Xander," Gibbs groused as they walked out of the terminal at O'Hare.

"Hey, it's military, within my budget and it's keeping me warm right now despite the fact that it's cold enough for my nose hair to freeze," Xander said from the depths of his greatcoat. "Plus it gives me somewhere to stash my sword."

"You do know that we work for the navy, and we'll be conducting an investigation at a naval installation; right?"

"Hey, Army, Navy; what does it matter, ultimately they both work for Uncle Sam." He pointed at the shoulder insignia, "Besides, it's from the Fourth Infantry, that was my Granddad's unit."

"When was your Grandfather in the Army," Ziva asked.

"World War Two," Xander replied. "His unit hit Utah Beach on D-Day." He paused for a second. "He said that it was one of the worst days he could ever imagine, but that once he saw a concentration camp, he knew that what he'd gone through was worth it."

Ziva and the others just nodded their heads at this statement but then Tony spoke up. "You didn't really bring your . . . . .," he was cut off by the hiss of metal.

"Sword, sure I did," Xander said. "It was a gift from a friend, plus it's a good weapon for intimidation. Most people would rather get shot than cut up into fillets."

"I bet that's right," Tony said. Then he turned to Gibbs. "Base housing boss?"

"Yeah, you and McGee are bunking together, me and Xander and of course Ziva gets her own place."

"That is not necessary Gibbs," Ziva started. "I am perfectly comfortable . . . ,"

"I know you are, but it'll be bad enough with everyone closing ranks. We don't need the extra scrutiny."

Ziva just nodded and kept her mouth shut. She hated being singled out because of her gender. Sure, she used it from time to time, what woman didn't; but to always be held apart because she was the only woman on the team chaffed her. Still fuming a bit, she got into the rental car with the others and headed north.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

Naval Station, Great Lakes had been training sailors for over one hundred years, and the building the team was currently in looked like it had been standing for most of it. Mostly they were looking over the reports and photographs of the four killings; Tim was currently cursing (quietly) the buildings crappy WiFi connection. Because of the time lag, three of the victims were already in the ground, however; the latest body had been sent to Ducky for a more in depth autopsy and the crime scene samples had been sent to Abby for her to work her voodoo. "Was there a lot of blood found at the scenes," McGee asked from his corner.

"No, barely any," Tony answered, flipping a page of the report he was perusing.

"So they were killed somewhere else and the bodies were dumped," Tim concluded.

"Not necessarily," Xander chimed in. If these nutsos think they're vampires, they may have had some way to collect the blood at the scene." He saw everyone looking at him oddly. "I admit it's not likely, but you've got to remember that whoever is doing this thinks they're vampires or wants everyone else to think they're vampires."

"You said 'they'," Gibbs asked. "Why?"

"Well the tox screens were clear, there were no signs of a struggle and none of these guys were small. That suggests multiple assailants," Xander continued. "One smaller and nonthreatening perp as the lure and then a much larger partner to restrain the victim; then once he's under control the lure finishes the victim off."

The others looked thoughtful at the possible scenario and Gibbs just grunted. "Are there any commonalities to the victims," Xander asked.

"Not that we can find, at least not yet," McGee answered. "Abby's going a bit more in depth but one was a Fire Controlman, one was a Gunner's Mate and two were Machinist Mates and all of them were here from different parts of the country."

"So they were all in A School," Tony clarified.

"Makes sense," Gibbs answered. "None of the guys in boot would be off base."

"They are all quite good looking," Ziva said as she was looking at the pre-death pictures of the victims." She started flipping through another report. "Was there any signs of recent sexual activity?"

"I don't think they looked," Gibbs replied. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that the assailant in this case might be female," Ziva said. "It would certainly explain the lack of a struggle in each of the victims," she replied with a smirk.

"I can see that," DiNozzo said. "Guy goes out on the town, gets picked up by a couple of hotties, has the night of his life and then gets forked," he paused, "literally."

There was silence as the other team members considered Tony's scenario. This was broken by the sound of a hand smacking the back of a head. "Thanks boss," Tony muttered.

As he was listening to DiNozzo, something the man had said about there being more than one girl pulled Xander's mind in a different direction. He looked up, "do we have a map that shows the locations of the bodies?"

"Why," Gibbs wanted to know.

"Just a hunch right now," Xander said. Soon enough a map was found and laid out on the table.

"What do you see," Ziva asked.

"I think we're beyond pretend vampires here," Xander said.

"What makes you say that that," Tim asked.

"Because the bodies were laid out on the cardinal compass points; North, South, East and West," Xander replied.

"And this tells you . . . . ." Gibbs began.

"Witches, I honestly think that we may be dealing with girls who think they're witches."

"Why?"

"A high possibility of female perpetrators, the victims laid out on the compass points, one victim per week and the time of death is around one AM."

"Why is that significant," Ziva asked.

"One AM is the true witching hour or thirteen O'clock; so if you've got someone convinced that they're a witch, they're probably running off movies and other bits of popular culture so the common movie clichés should be in play here."

"And the bit with the barbeque fork?"

"Either misdirection or they're collecting the blood for some sort of 'spell'," Xander replied.

"Witches," Gibbs said skeptically.

"Over in Africa there are a lot of men and women who consider themselves witches. Witchcraft is a recognized crime in many of the countries over there, not to mention cultural traditions like the Golem of Hebrew mythology, or the Fakirs and Djinn in Arabic lore or the Yogis of India. Heck, Witchcraft is still on the books as a crime a lot of places here in the good old U S of A," Xander said.

"So a lot of people seriously believe this kind of thing?" Tim asked.

"Sure, I bet I could find you at least three shops in Chicago that openly refer to themselves as magic shops, and by magic I don't mean pull a rabbit out of a hat or something like that."

Gibbs was obviously mulling over what he'd heard and learned; finally he looked at his team. "DiNozzo, you talk to the bunkmates and friends of each victim."

"Find out where they liked to hang out and what they liked to do with their free time; got it boss," DiNozzo replied.

"McGee."

"I'll check their backgrounds and see if there's any kind of connection between the four victims, maybe there's someone or something they all had in common."

"David, you take Xander and . . ."

"Check out where the bodies were dumped and also whatever is near the center of the perimeter they create to see if we can find either where the men were abducted or where they were killed."

"And you, boss;" Tony asked.

"I'm gonna let Ducky and Abby know what to look for and then review what the instructors had to say about each of the victims," Gibbs replied.

They scattered, each going to work on their assignment and hoping that things got clearer.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

As Tim dug into things, he figured he couldn't have chosen four men who were more different if he'd tried. The only commonality they seemed to have was that they were all Caucasian. They were from different parts of the country, from different social strata's and different family situations. As he kept digging, what Ziva said came back to him, there was one other thing they had in common, and that was that they were all good looking guys. He paused for a second; maybe if he looked at the type of girls they were attracted to he would find something. It was weird, but he'd seen stranger connections before.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

Tony remembered when he'd been this young; he didn't remember being this much of a jerk though. He was talking to Seaman Simpson, who was the bunkmate of Seaman Kovatch, the first victim. So far he'd heard about how much the navy sucked, how it was essential to know how to mix a killer Margarita because girls liked those, and how much better this place was than Amarillo Texas, where Seaman Simpson was from.

"So did you all hit the town together?"

"Yeah man, especially after Boot was over me and Stevie and about four other guys closed this place down. God were we hammered that night."

"You all leave together?"

"Yeah man, there wasn't anything worth tapping there that night."

"So who else was with you?"

"Stevie, Boatwright, Thompson, Markle and Stephens, we left together and we came back together."

Tony noted the names so he could cross reference them later with the friends of the other victims. "So is that the only time you all went out?"

"The six of us, yeah. But me and Stevie went out a couple more times before . . . . you know."

"Do you remember the name of the place you went?"

"Nah, man; it was just this local dive over on 10th, but this one time we went to this weird club over on Washington, near the park."

"What was weird about it?"

"Well it was one of those clubs where everyone is wearing makeup and leather, you know, that kind of place."

"Did Stevie like that kind of place?"

"Not the place so much as the chicks."

"Better looking girls there?"

"Not to me they weren't, but Stevie seemed to like the no sun and leather thing."

"Did he pick anyone up?"

"Nah, but a couple of chicks sent him a drink. He went and talked to em but he came back and we came back together."

"When was this?"

"About three days before he . . . . . you know."

"Do you remember the name of that place?"

"Nah, but how many places like that are around here?"

"Good point," Tony muttered as he put away he notebook. "Thanks for all your help," Tony said. Then he handed the young man his card, "If you think of anything else, give me a call."

"Did it help?"

"Yeah," Tony replied, "it did."

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

Gibbs thought that the instructors had been pretty darned useless as far as helping out his investigation, however good they might be at teaching recruits. Since he'd struck out there, he hoped that Ducky and Abby could give him something. Ducky was first on his list.

"Yes Jethro, Seaman Fredrickson was engaged sexually quite near his demise."

"How do you know that, Ducky?"

"Do you really want me to go into details Jethro?"

Gibbs paused, actually considering it for a second, but then he just let it pass. "Any signs of a struggle or indications that he'd been drugged?"

"No to both, although the full workup won't be done for another twelve hours."

"Is there anything you can tell me?"

"Whoever did this knew what they were doing, Jethro. There was no hesitation, the skin would tear if there were movement and there wasn't. That tells us that whoever wielded the fork did so with precision. And since there was only one wound, with accuracy as well which all adds up to someone who knew what they were doing."

"So someone handy with a barbeque fork, that's most of Chicago."

"Well, you might consider someone who grew up on a farm," Ducky said. "Slaughtering a pig or a man is essentially the same thing as far as the mechanics of the act are concerned."

"I'll keep that in mind," Gibbs said with a grin. "Thanks Ducky and let me know if you find anything else."

"Goodbye Jethro," the old ME replied.

Gibbs hung up but then immediately hit speed dial two on his phone, he didn't have to wait long for an answer. "How do you always know when I've got something for you," Abby asked in a huff.

"Just good timing," Gibbs replied with a smile, "So what can you tell me?"

"They were all killed in the same place, they were naked when it happened, whoever did it put altar oil on them . . . ."

"Before or after they were killed," Gibbs cut in.

"I'd have to say after but that's not certain. I'm running the compound and trying to track down the brand," Abby continued with a rush. "Oh and this is the most important of all, they were all killed on the roof of a building that's at least eighty years old."

"Now how could you know that," Gibbs asked, bemused.

"There were tar and asbestos particulates in the victim's back, from laying on the roof of wherever he was killed, but the great bit was that there was a splinter in his shoulder. I guess when they were taking him off the roof his shoulder hit something like a door frame or something. Well anyway, the splinter was from an American Chestnut and the entire population of American Chestnuts was destroyed by blight prior to 1930. So it has to be in a building that was put up before 1930 or more than eighty years old," Abby finished with a flourish.

"That's my girl," Gibbs said. He could almost hear Abby preen over the phone. "Let me know if you find anything else," he said and hung up. Idly he wondered how everyone else was doing.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

HINKSTON PARK, WAUKEGAN, IL

"So this is where the first body was found?"

"Yes," Ziva replied, "the body of Seaman Steven Kovatch from Detroit Michigan was discovered here."

"Do we know exactly where," Xander asked.

"It is no longer blocked off, but if McGee gave me the right GPS co-ordinates then it was right over there." She pointed to a field to their left.

"Does that seem a little odd to you," Xander asked his current partner. "I mean, you've got two different stands of trees that are real close to an access road, so why carry the dead body from where you've got cover into a wide open field."

Ziva looked around, it was a good question. Why go to all the trouble and risk exposure when it wasn't necessary. But then it occurred to her that to the criminals it had been necessary, which suggested that whoever it was was seriously off their rails. "I do not know," she replied. "Obviously they thought that it was worth the risk."

"So can we narrow the location down any more," Xander asked as they tromped towards the field. He was currently blessing the unusual lack of snow; it meant that they stood a chance of actually finding something. "Working on it," Ziva said focusing her attention on the GPS unit in her hand. It was very different working with Xander as opposed to working with Tony. Tony was constantly prattling on about movies or some other obscure bit of popular American culture, but Xander seemed content with the quiet, breaking it only to ask relevant questions. Honestly she wasn't sure which she preferred. When they got to the spot that the GPS identified as where the body was found, there was nothing there; nothing to indicate that anything odd had occurred. They took a few pictures but didn't see anything significant. As they were walking away, Ziva turned and saw something odd. It looked like a letter of some sort, right where they'd been. "Xander, do you see anything back where we were?"

Xander turned and looked back, "Do you see something that looks like a letter," he asked.

"I do," Ziva replied, confusion in her voice. Why hadn't they seen it when they were right there; she wondered.

"It must be that angle of the light," Xander's voice intruded into her thoughts. "Get a picture of it while we can still see it."

"Did you recognize it," Ziva asked as they made their way back to the car.

"It looked vaguely familiar but I just can't seem to nail it down," Xander answered her. "You?"

"I've never seen anything like it." She turned and looked at him, "Would your organization be able to help us with this?" She was curious as to what exactly the purpose of the NSWC was. If Alexander was indicative of the competency of their personnel then they were an organization to be feared, but what did they do. She remembered what Xander had said, but he'd never really answered the question when it had been put to him directly.

"They should," Xander replied. "We've got a whole section that deals with archeology and ancient histories, someone there should have an idea about what that thing was."

"If this Council of yours deals with unusual or critical situations, why would you have a group like that?"

"Because sometimes, when approaching people that are trying to kill each other, it is good to know the background of each group and a history of their conflicts so you're not tripped up by what you might consider a matter of little importance but one that one of the combatants feels is of paramount importance." He gulped in a huge amount of air after his inadvertent display of Willow babble.

Ziva was surprised, more by the fact that he had spit that entire statement out in one breath than by what he'd said. She just shook her head in wonder as they finally got back to the car. "Well, at least now we know what to look for," she said as she turned the engine over.

"I just hope the light cooperates," he said as they roared off.

By knowing what to look for, and a little help from a couple of flashlights, they were able to locate the different symbols at each site. It was frustrating for Xander because he could almost tell what they were, but he just couldn't wrap his mind around it. The fact that he could drop the local house a line when they got back to the base and he'd know what each one meant by morning didn't help much.

They surveyed the four scenes and then went to what was the center of the area delineated by the four bodies. Odds are it was somewhere near here. The two of them stood on a street corner, just looking around; hoping something would jump out at them. Ziva was trying to figure out if the upper floors of a nearby building were occupied when she heard Harris mutter, "You've got to be kidding me."

She followed his gaze, trying to figure out what it was that had caught his attention. The only thing of note she saw in the general area was an odd looking bar. It seemed to be catering more to a younger crowd, most of the people going in or out seemed to be high school age or there about. She glanced back at Xander and idly noted the look of both annoyance and fear that were on his face. She turned back to the bar, 'The Bronze', it said over the door. She'd remember that.


	14. That I Come From pt 2

That I Come From pt. 2

Ziva looked back at the man she was with, "Do you know this place Xander?"

"Not this specific place, no. But when I was growing up the only place for us kids to hang out was a dump called 'The Bronze'. It had live music and catered to the pre-drinking crowd and you really didn't have to worry about the whole gang thing there because, for the most part, everyone treated it like neutral ground." He shook his head as if trying to clear it. "We've got Sunnydale style attacks going on here and now we find a place with the same name a place I knew in Sunnydale, that seems to stretch the bounds of coincidence."

"Do you think they are connected?"

"Maybe not directly but yeah, I do."

"Should we go find some answers or do you think we'll need backup?"

"Nah," Xander said after a second or two of thought. "Let's go see what's the what?"

Ziva's brow wrinkled as Xander answered her question, or so she assumed. She'd never met anyone who could butcher the English language the way that he could. She was still trying to puzzle out what he'd meant when she noticed that he was heading for the place, so she hurried to catch up.

For his part, Xander was scared. Not of this place, but of the very real possibility that some Sunnydale survivor had opened this place up. If it was just him going in, that would have been fine, but Ziva was with him and he was deathly afraid of what might be said in a conversation that he couldn't control. The last thing in the world that he wanted right now was for his new team mates to be dragged into the world of the supernatural. They had their plates full enough with just ordinary evil; Team Gibbs didn't need to add things that went bump in the night to the list of things to keep an eye on.

At first it looked like the bouncer was gonna be a problem, but Xander flashed his ID and Ziva gave a little smile and they were in. For a second, Xander could see the past laying like a ghost over the present. There were some of the same band posters, and different bits of décor that were the same, eerily so; and he half expected to see a seventeen year old Buffy or Willow sitting at their usual table or Cordelia holding court over in the corner, carrying on about different colored nail polish to the rapt attention of the Cordettes. Then the present asserted itself and Xander was able to see the differences, in the layout for one and there were things on the wall now, which had never been in the original. Mostly posters of bands that hadn't been around back in 2000 and other dated bric-a-brac, but there were four things that really did give Xander pause and provided a clear break from 'The Bronze' of the past.

They were poster size, but obviously privately done or commissioned. Xander knew this because of the subjects. One was a short, very pretty blond woman in partial plate armor, the kind that showed a lot of skin; and carrying a huge, gleaming axe. Across the top, in extravagantly gothic letters it said, 'The Protector'.

The second was also a woman; she had red and black streaked hair, revealingly cut robes and lightning pouring out from one hand. Its title was 'The Mage', but the letters were more Harry Potter than gothic.

The third was an older man with John Lennon glasses, a robe with stars on it and intense eyes. He was seated at a desk and surrounded by thick tomes, there was also an owl perched on a bookcase over his left shoulder. Its title was 'The Sage' and the gothic letters were back.

The final almost caused Xander to just pull a Giles and pinch the bridge of his nose. It was of a dark haired man in full plate armor, an eye patch over his right eye and brandishing a huge, pure white shield. Its title was 'The Paladin' but this time the script was an overly stylized calligraphy. He resolved that if it was possible, he would get copies for the others since Christmas was coming soon. A quick smile graced his lips when he pictured their reactions. But right now, he had a Sunnydale connection to find amongst the crazies and Ren-fair nuts surrounding him. He walked up to the bar and again flashed his ID.

"The owner around?" Xander asked as soon as the guy was close enough to hear.

The guy jerked his head towards a corner of the place, "he's up there."

Xander just nodded and headed for the stairs that he knew were just around the corner. He climbed them two at a time, in a hurry to see who it was that had dredged up this ghost of his past. The balcony was packed with kids, none of whom looked to be over sixteen. Briefly Xander wondered if he'd ever been that young. He was wedging his way through the crowd, his target a throne-like chair he could see in one barely lit corner. As he finally broke through the crowd that had circled around the chair, it took him a second to recognize exactly who it was he was looking at but when he managed to place the face, a vicious smile that contained no warmth what so ever bloomed on his face. "Hello Tucker," he growled out.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

Ziva was not exactly sure what was going on. As she followed Xander into the club, he seemed distracted, almost indifferent to his surroundings, which she felt was not usual for him. His eye kept darting around, taking in the scene without actually seeing anything. When he finally seemed to take notice of anything, it was four pictures that caused him to go pale. She did not know why, but they seemed to hold some power over him. As he was moving towards the bar, Ziva realized what it was that she was seeing. Xander was afraid. This truly made no sense to her. He hadn't shown fear during several situations where it would have been an appropriate response, but here, where there was no real threat, he showed fear. Ziva realized that the fear was somehow tied up in his home town and dealing with what they were had brought these feelings to the top.

As Xander started up the stairs, his movements became more assured and purposeful. It was clear that whatever he'd been dealing with had been resolved. She kept a step or two behind Xander, watching his back even though she thought the chance of attack here was slight. Idly she noted the angry faces as they moved through the crowd and was about to comment on it when his face lit up with unholy glee and he said, "Hello Tucker." The man, who appeared to be nearly the same age as Xander turned pale and stuttered for a second, but before he could say anything, one of the young girls there spoke up.

"So you know the Storyteller?"

Xander's glance shot from the man down to the girl and back to the man in a heartbeat. "You could say that," he replied with a bit of venom in his voice. "We grew up in the same town."

"You're from Sunnydale too?" another girl asked.

"Storyteller, huh. That figures," Xander muttered to himself. Then he spoke up, ignoring the girls question and flashing his ID, "Sorry to interrupt folks, but we need to talk to Mr. Wells for a bit." He then turned a gimlet glare on the cowering man, "We've got some questions that only he can help us out with."

As he said this, Xander stepped forward and grabbed Tucker by the arm, pulling the man to his feet. "Where's a place we can talk?" he hissed.

"My office is back there," the man squeaked out, flapping his hand in a general direction. In answering, the man seemed to have finally found his voice. "Harris, is that really you?"

"Not now," Xander nearly snarled and started cutting back through the remainders of the crowd.

The three moved awkwardly in the direction that Wells had indicated. The man's eyes darted all around and Ziva was certain that he would have run if given half a chance. Xander seemed to be equally determined to not give him that chance. They came to a door that had 'Manager' written over it. Xander pinned Wells against the door with his body and turned the knob with his right hand. The two burst into the room with Ziva following quietly.

Ziva shut the door behind her and turned to see where they were. It was your typical small business' shabby office. The chairs and the computer looked to be high end, but the desk, filing cabinet and everything else looked cheap. The wallpaper looked like it had been new back when Nixon was president and the paint color reminded her of vomit. Before she could even take a step, she saw Xander pivot and sink his fist into Wells' gut. The bar owner fell to the ground, as Xander finally turned his arm loose. As he lay there, trying to pull air back into his lungs; Xander leaned over the gasping man. "That was for those Pit Bulls you set on everyone at Prom," Xander growled.

When Harris had said 'Pit Bulls', Ziva had seen Wells' eyes dart to her for a split second. His head swiveled back to face Harris, the eyebrows slightly raised in question. Harris gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head and she saw Wells relax just a bit. She had no idea what their silent conversation had been about, but she was certain that it was significant. Not to this case, but maybe to finally discovering some of the hidden parts of the one eyed man.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

"We're here to ask you some questions there Tucker," Xander said as he helped the man into a chair. "Agent David and I are with NCIS and we're investigating a series of murders. Specifically, murders by barbecue fork." He leaned in close, glowering. "We figured you could help us with that."

Tucker gaped at the man. "NCIS, I thought you were still with the Council?"

"I am, but this is a temporary assignment. Now what can you tell us."

"Not much, not any more than the papers probably," he answered. "Why do you think I'd know anything about it?"

"Because of the Sunnydale signature to the kills, the fact that you're obviously telling stories about Sunnydale and because whoever is doing this thinks that they're witches."

Wells paled a bit more. "Witches, really?" he asked. He sat back, the gears in his head obviously meshing for the first time since his story had been interrupted. Finally he asked a question, "How many are you looking for?"

"We're not sure," Xander replied. "At least two, one who does the young and innocent routine but they're probably old enough to get into a regular bar. Or at least they look old enough to get into a regular bar."

"No one that I'm aware of then," Wells replied. "Once the kid hits about sixteen, seventeen at the latest, they're out of here. I mean, some older kids will drop in from time to time, but no one regular, certainly no regular group."

Xander thought a moment, what he really wanted to do was get Ziva out of here so he could question Tucker openly, but that wasn't gonna happen. Finally he asked, "Do you remember a place called the "Sunset" back in the Dale?"

Tucker just paled and nodded. "I went there once, they were crazy."

"Any place like that around here?"

"Nothing like that," Tucker answered immediately. "The closest thing we've got to that is a club over off of Martin near Melrose. It's called 'The Rue Morgue'." He leaned forward, "It's a serious Goth club."

Xander just sat back, thinking about what he'd been told. After a moment or two, he turned to Ziva. "Any questions for our friend here Agent David?"

Ziva was idly cleaning her nails with a very sharp knife at the moment; Tucker saw that and cringed back in his chair. "Not right now, but I'm sure that he realizes that if he's misled us or lied to us, that we will be visiting again." She gave Tucker a class one glare complete with a psychotic little smile. "You haven't misled us or lied to us have you Mr. Wells?"

Tucker vigorously shook his head, his eyes so wide they almost threatened to fall out of his skull.

"Excellent," Ziva said, straightening up. "Do you have any more questions, Xander?"

"Just one," Xander replied, turning back to face Tucker. "Where could I get copies of a couple of those posters you have in the main room?"

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"So what do we have," Gibbs asked.

"The only connection I could find, other than the Navy," McGee started; "was that they all seemed to go for the same type of girl."

"And what type is that?"

"Goth type," DiNozzo broke in, "the scarier the better, at least according to their buddies."

"They ever go to a bar or club like that?"

"No, but in each case they were in a regular bar and somewhere along the way a couple of girls like that sent one of the guys a drink. There was always conversation, but the guys always came back to base that night."

"So you think the girls were setting up a meeting?"

"Absolutely."

"Was it always the same bar," McGee asked.

"No," DiNozzo checked his notes; "a different bar each time."

"So the girls were trolling."

"It seems that way," Tony answered.

"So what did you all get from the scenes," Gibbs asked.

"It was tricky but in the right light we could see that there were patterns in the grass where the bodies had been laid out."

"You mean like impressions?"

"No," Ziva said as Xander passed out copies of the photos they'd taken. "More like symbols of some kind."

"Any idea what they mean," Gibbs asked Xander.

"No, but I would like to fax them to someone I know. She's an expert at ancient languages and symbology."

"How good?"

"She taught at Oxford for a while."

"I'd say that's pretty good," McGee added as Tony just whistled.

"Anything else?"

"Well, near the center of the perimeter made by the body placement was a bar that caters to the supernatural wanna-bes. It's run by a guy I knew from Sunnydale. Anyway, he gave me the address to a serious Goth club. I did a brief check and it's not on the grid at all which tells me that it's a good possibility for where our girls hang out."

"Why would you think that?" Tony asked.

"Why else would they need to go trolling?" Ziva replied. She and Xander had talked this over after they had left the 'Bronze'. "If it was well known or in the phone book or something like that, then the four men should have been able to find it on their own."

"Since you seem to have thought this one through, what's our next step?" Gibbs asked.

"I think we need to get eyes in the club," Xander replied. "The problem is that if we go barging in there, they're gonna know something's up and they'll either rabbit or go to ground."

"Rabbit?" Ziva asked; confusion in her voice.

"It means they'll run," Tony replied.

"Even if we play it low key, odds are they'll hear about it and we've got the same problem and if we go in there full tilt, there's always the possibility that they won't be there."

"Which leaves?" Tony asked.

"Tim," Xander replied.

"What?" McGee shouted. "What do I have to do with anything?"

"You're gonna be our man on the inside," Xander told the guy. "Gibbs and Tony are too old to pull it off. Ziva and I might, but you're our best bet to get in there without being noticed."

"Boss," McGee said, turning to Gibbs. "You know I'm not great with undercover."

"All you have to do is walk into a bar, get a drink and then walk around a club looking for a group of girls while acting like life sucks," Gibbs explained. "Anyone can do that, your age just makes you the right one for it."

Tim's shoulders slumped with the realization that there was no way he was talking himself out of this one. He just hoped that the inevitable pictures were kept to a minimum. "What will I be wearing?"

"Black leather pants, some kind of black shirt or maybe ruffles, engineer boots and we'll see about the jacket;" Xander said. "Is it too much to hope that you've got one or two tattoos?"

"No ink on me," McGee answered.

"Bummer," Xander replied. "Now I can take care of the clothes if one of you will give the place a quick drive by to see what kind of makeup we need."

"Makeup," McGee howled. "Why do I need makeup?"

"If you're gonna slip in and out without being marked, you've got to look like a regular and that means having the right makeup."

"What types are there?" McGee asked, now starting to worry.

"It can be as simple as eyeliner," Xander began. "But there are some places that go full Kabuki."

"You mean white with black and red features?" Ziva asked.

"Yep, and if you show up with the wrong type, you'll be marked in a heartbeat."

"Great," McGee muttered, "We wouldn't want that to happen, now would we." Realizing that the entire situation had gone to hell and he'd be hearing about it for years to come, McGee was less than thrilled with his coworkers at the moment.

"DiNozzo, you're with me," Gibbs said checking his watch. "Ziva, tomorrow you go with McGee and Xander." He paused, "Before you do, give Abby a call and see if she has any suggestions." With that, Gibbs and Tony were out the door.

"Come on Tim," Xander said with sadistic glee, "better rest up now because tomorrow's gonna be a long day."

"Just shoot me now," McGee whined.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

Xander talked to Tim for a while, trying to lay out the whole Goth scene for him. Ziva stayed and offered tips on working undercover; it seemed to calm him down. The three of them broke up before Gibbs and Tony got back and Xander took the opportunity to get pictures of the symbols that were in the grass and called Chicago house.

"Paul, its Xander Harris."

"…."

"Yeah, I'm great, but I need a favor."

"…"

"I'm gonna shoot you some pictures of these weird symbols that we found. If you could find out what they mean and get back to me, that would be much appreciated."

"…."

"As soon as you can. We've had four murders up here that seem to be wrapped up in some sort of ritual. I'm trying to make sure the number of killings doesn't climb to five and make sure the world keeps spinning as well."

"…"

"My gut tells me we're dealing with wanna-bes here and not anything serious."

"…."

"Yeah, I know stupidity can kill; I've seen it first hand. Just let me know what you find and we'll work from there, Okay?"

"…."

"Great, and thanks."

Xander hung up the phone and took a deep breath. Yes he knew that an idiot with too much power could cause serious damage. That was how Tara had died after all, a little man with too much power. Xander didn't realize he'd been standing there, lost in the past until the sound of the door opening snapped him out of it. He had his Walther half out of its holster before he realized that it was just Gibbs coming back from his recon. "Sorry about that," he said, sliding his James Bond gun back into its holster.

"Never apologize, it's a sign of weakness," Gibbs replied automatically.

"One of your rules?" Xander asked.

"Its number six," Gibbs replied with a smile.

"I guess we'll agree to disagree about that one," Xander said. "So what is Tim gonna have to wear tomorrow?"

Gibbs didn't say anything, he just held up a small, digital camera with a smirk on his face.

When Xander saw it, he broke out into a wide grin, "He's gonna hate me," he muttered as Gibbs just nodded in silent agreement.

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"I hate you," Tim said with a slight whine in his voice. It was being made abundantly clear that he was feeling seriously put upon.

"Yeah, no doubt," Xander absently replied. "But what's important is that now you'll blend in so we can get the information we need to catch the people killing sailors."

"I know," Tim replied quietly, his shoulders slumping. He had a lot of reason to hate Xander at that particular moment. He was wearing black leather pants and a black silk poofy pirate shirt that tied rather than buttoned. That and the motorcycle boots weren't that bad in and of themselves, but when you put it all together and topped it with a long tailed coat that made Tim look like a field marshal from the Napoleonic era; well that just put everything over the top as far as McGee was concerned. It didn't help that the pants chaffed quite a bit. Then, to just add serious insult to injury, there was the makeup. He was wearing so much eye liner that he looked like an extra in an Alice Cooper video, he was wearing a foundation that made it look like he'd never seen the sun and the topper was that everything sparkled. Apparently glitter was in for the 'we hate the world' crowd.

"I know you don't like this," Xander said earnestly. "But you've got to learn to ignore what you like and don't like in order to complete the mission. That's always your primary concern, accomplishing the mission. It doesn't matter if you have to dress like the hero from a Harlequin Romance, you're only concern is the mission, alright?" Xander was trying for indifference but the truth was that he was extremely anxious about what was gonna go down. He'd gotten word back from Chicago house that the symbols he'd found were the precursors to a summoning spell that would pull something that could eat the mayor (once he transformed) as an appetizer into this dimension and gave the caster a good chance of controlling the monstrosity. The kicker was that, all things considered, it was a fairly simple ritual; we're talking Harmony levels of simplicity here.

Paul McGann had been all for heading up as soon as he found out about the ritual and handling things in typical slayer fashion, meaning lots of property damage. For a Canadian, Xander mused, the guy was pretty bloodthirsty. Xander finally had to pull rank in order to keep a team of slayers and watchers from coming up and laying waste to the NCIS investigation. As it was, he had thirty six hours before the matter was taken out of his hands, whether he liked it or not. This meant that he needed McGee to come through.

While Tim was in the club, Xander and Ziva would be monitoring nearby; with Xander on the radio, talking McGee through everything. Gibbs already had a nicely hidden spot where he could watch the back entrance and DiNozzo would be on the front. Personally Xander thought that was overkill, he didn't figure these fruit loops would do anything threatening to Tim even if his cover was blown, but he kept his opinions to himself and Tim seemed to feel better about the whole operation.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

Gibbs and DiNozzo were already in place and Ziva was giving McGee his last minute instructions. Xander was tempted to take notes because she was covering stuff that he'd never even considered. They'd set up an extraction word, 'Dormant' in this case; so if they heard him say that, the cavalry was on the way. They'd set up a simple code so he didn't have to answer questions verbally, two taps for 'no', one for 'yes'; and several other signals so that things would go as smoothly as possible. Ziva finally finished her instructions and Xander leaned forward. "You've got the earwig in, right?"

"Yeah."

"Got any kind of weapon that won't mark you as a cop the second you draw it?"

"Huh," Tim responded, not sure where this was going.

"If you get into a tussle, have you got something to defend yourself with other than your service piece?"

"Nooo," Tim replied, drawing out his answer.

"Here," Xander said, pulling a knife out from his greatcoat. It was an old Trench knife that Xander had found quite useful over the years, especially since there were little silver crosses welded onto the brass knuckles that formed the knife's hilt. "You might get into a fight or something and need a little more than just your fists, but not something over the top, like your Sig. This will fit in with the whole look you're going for and won't be that big a deal if it's seen on you."

Tim took the knife and slipped his hand into the brass knuckles, it felt good. "Cool," he finally said, and tucked the knife under his belt, next to his gun. "Thanks," he said and then after a deep breath he checked to make sure the coast was clear and got out of the van.

As soon as he did, his whole appearance seemed to change; his eyes became indifferent and a sneer bloomed on his lips. He'd only taken about ten steps when a voice came over his earpiece, "This is talk radio, do I have any listeners out there?"

He heard both Gibbs and Tony acknowledge and murmured, "loud and clear," once they were done. "Okay, you're all coming through, now go get em Sparkles," Xander said over the com. Tim shook his head, he didn't know what he'd do or how he'd do it, but Harris was so gonna get pranked for this.


	15. That I Come From pt 3

That I Come From pt. 3

It took Tim a second to realize that he'd just passed the door to the club. It wasn't hidden so much as it just blended in to the background of the older neighborhood. There was no bouncer or doorman, just a matte black door with the words 'Rue Morgue' written across it in blood red calligraphy. He reached out and turned the knob and entered into a pitch black hallway. He hesitated for just a second, and then strolled forward as though he knew exactly where he was going. As the outside door closed, he could see the faint outline of a door ahead, so he reached for where the knob should be and got it on the first try.

The blaze of light disoriented him momentarily as he pulled the door open, but his eyes quickly adjusted and he found himself face to chest with the bouncer. Tim knew that he wasn't an overly large guy, that being said he knew that he wasn't anywhere close to puny either; that is unless he was compared to the man standing in front of him. The guy was immense; to the point that Tim briefly wondered if the thing was real or just some sort of elaborate robot. He, or it, was wearing leather pants and a vest with most of his exposed skin being covered in tattoos; and that skin rippled with muscles that made Tim think of a documentary he'd seen once on the effects of steroids; wisely he kept quiet about what excessive steroids could do to your . . . . package. Tim took a quick step back and the behemoth shifted his gaze, giving Tim a quick once over, then he stuck out his hand, "Five bucks cover charge," he rumbled. Tim dug a roll of bills out of one of his coat's interior pockets, peeled off a five and slapped it into the man-mountain's hand. With no reply coming, Tim eased around the doorman and moved into the club proper. The club wasn't huge but it did seem to favor lots of small areas, and it seemed to sprawl a bit, in other words it would be a pain to search.

Despite the relatively bright lights at the entrance, the club was pretty dark. It had a disheveled, untidy look to it, like a house gets when the owner is sketchy with the cleaning. It had high ceilings and all the vents, duct work and wiring were painted matte black. The walls were a mottled grey and the lighting fixtures that he could see almost appeared to be Victorian, but black iron instead of brass. All in all, the place was slightly Steampunk, but more than anything, it just seemed to radiate gloom.

He eased up to the bar, wincing a little as his new pants pulled in a most uncomfortable way. As Tim waited for the bartender to notice him, he scanned the club. Except for the way everyone was dressed, it looked like any other club that he'd been to. There were guys trying to pick up girls and vice versa, along with dancing and loud music. As he listened, he recognized what he was hearing as things he'd heard in Abby's lab from time to time. Tim had never known that music could be so loud and so depressing at the same time, but it seemed to fit the place. The only non-superficial difference he noticed was that there seemed to be a higher than normal girl to guy ratio. He was snapped out of his contemplations when a voice asked, "What'll you have?"

"Bloody Mary," he answered absently. He'd already talked over this one with Abby. She told him to stick to red drinks or wine, and the Bloody Mary was the only red drink he liked. He then turned and faced the bar and noticed that the bartender was in fact female, despite the gravelly voice that had asked him for his order. Actually, the more he looked, the more he liked what he was seeing from the rough voiced young woman. "Take in the scenery later McGee," said Xander's voice, coming through the ear piece. "I agree that the black leather flatters her quite a bit, but we don't have time for distractions right now."

He gave a heavy sigh, but understood that Xander was right, which just meant that the one eyed man would need to be pranked repeatedly. He dug out his roll and pulled off a ten, holding it out to the bartender when she turned around with his drink. "Keep it," he ground out, but he gave the woman a brief smile when he took the drink. She made the bill disappear with some sort of sleight of hand and flashed Tim a brief smile as well. Tim raised his glass in a brief toast and then turned and started wandering around the club.

The first thing he was looking for was the back door. It was always good to know the quickest way out of wherever you were just in case things went wrong. He wandered in the general direction of the bathrooms, knowing that it would be the most likely location for the back door as well since there was no kitchen in this place. As he headed there, he paused in front of several of the smaller areas that were created by the placement of décor and Japanese style screens. There was nothing he saw that tripped his alarms and the voices over the ear piece were silent. Finally he saw a barely lit sign that said 'EXIT' and headed for it, sure enough there was the back door. Unfortunately it had a bunch of people standing around in front of it, as though they were guarding the thing. As Tim wandered back there, he realized that it was probably the quietest place in the whole club and one of the few where you could actually hold a conversation without shouting, which explained all the people; but it would be a pain if he had to try and get out that way.

He turned and wandered back to the club proper. The alcoves and nooks of the place were interesting, but mundane. Kids making out, some angst and earnest conversations and lots of incense which was probably covering smoke of a different sort. It was a secluded corner, off to the left of the bar and about as far away from the back door as you could get when he found what he was looking for.

It was the bright light that he noticed first. Most of the club was dreary, so any spot of bright drew attention. The light was coming from an old goose-necked lamp that was sitting on one corner of a square table. There were three women at the table and an old book sitting on it. Currently the book was closed but it had the ruffled and slightly sprung look of something that had been thumbed through a lot. The girls looked to be in their late teens to early twenties, that kind of thing was hard to tell with the makeup and clothes, and were talking animatedly amongst themselves. "Bingo," Tim muttered.

"I think you're right there Tim," Xander said over the com. "Go up and ask to see the book, that way they'll focus on the book and what you're talking about rather than you."

"Got it," Tim murmured in reply, and he eased over towards the three girls, sipping his drink.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

"Why do you think that these are the girls we're looking for?" Ziva asked.

"Because there's three of them," Xander replied, in a 'DUH' kind of voice. When it was clear that Ziva didn't understand, he elaborated. "Remember that they're gonna take their cues from popular culture, so three witches."

Ziva worked to figure out where she'd ever seen anything about three witches. "Shakespeare?" she asked, thinking of Macbeth.

"Charmed," Xander and Tony both replied. Ziva just rolled her eyes.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

The three girls were in the middle of a rather heated conversation when Tim walked up. Each one of the three was striking in her own way. The one on his left was well muscled and seemed to have a scowl permanently etched on her face. Everything she was wearing was made of leather and had spikes of one sort or another. This went from the spiked dog collar she was wearing down to her mid-calf boots that had spikes running down on either side of the laces. The one on his right was much smaller and her clothing was lighter, more a mass of ruffles and frills than anything else. She also had pink streaks in her hair. The one facing him fell somewhere in the middle. She was wearing a leather bustier along with a Hussar's coat that was trimmed entirely in silver. The last four inches of her jet black hair was silver as well and it even appeared that she had silver tinted contacts in. As soon as they were aware of him, they shut up and due to the ambient noise in the place, he unfortunately hadn't heard anything. "Can I?" he asked, pointing to the book.

They shared a look for a second. "Sure," the middle one finally replied. "I'm Argent, and this is Pixie and Belladonna," the middle girl continued, "are you into books?"

"Thingol," Tim said quietly, "and I'm working on my PhD in Library sciences." Tim bent over the book, hoping that Xander would keep feeding him the story he was currently using. "De Vermis Mysteriis," Tim read off the front.

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"Holy crap," Xander muttered when he heard the title of the book. Fortunately this was drowned out by DiNozzo's cackling "Elf Lord," that came over the internal line. He turned his head towards Ziva who just rolled her eyes and said, "You do not want to know." Xander shrugged and then turned back and leaned into the mike, "Pull back a bit Tim and let me get a good look at the cover. Oh, ask em where they got the thing."

As he absently listened to the question and answer, he took a good look at the cover of the book, and suddenly he broke out in a cold sweat. "Ask em if they knew that it was bound in human skin?" he said over the com line.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

"You do know this thing is bound in human skin, right?" Tim asked the three.

"Really, that is so cool," Pixie burst out while the other two didn't look phased at all by the news. "How did you know that?"

"The patina on the leather is unmistakable," Tim said, not looking at the girls. Then he straightened a bit, "and you all just found it in some old shop in Chicago?" Tim asked again, his voice saying that he clearly didn't believe them.

The three shared a look again and finally Argent spoke up, she was obviously the leader of the trio. "This guy hired us to lift it from this shop," she said with a smile. "Bella and I staged a little ruckus and Pixie waltzed out with the thing and the counter guy never even noticed."

"And the guy that hired you?"

"Never showed for the pick up, so we kept the thing," she leaned forward, flashing some impressive cleavage. "So how old is this thing?"

"About eight hundred years old or so," Tim replied, again thankful that Xander was feeding him the responses he needed. "Do you all wear gloves when you read it?"

"No, why?" Pixie asked.

"Back in the day, it was common to paint the pages of books like this with a tisane of poison so that anyone who stole it or read it without permission would die. You all are lucky that it wasn't done in this case," Tim thought for a second. "Either that or the poison they used lost its potency after so much time."

"How do you know all that," Argent asked. At the same time Pixie chimed in with, "that's so cooL," yet again.

Deciding to answer Argent's question first, "When you study old books, you soon learn about wearing gloves for lots of reasons. I knew a guy that forgot this and had a habit of moistening his finger by licking it before turning the pages. His tongue turned black and he couldn't breathe. He would have died except a med student who was studying some old medical texts did an emergency tracheotomy right there in the Library.

"So how much is it worth?" Argent asked, flashing her chest again.

"About five hundred," Tim said casually as he flipped open the front cover.

"Five hundred bucks," Bella rasped out. Her voice sounded like gravel in a hub-cap.

"No," Tim corrected, "five hundred thousand." As he said this he leaned further over the book. This was a mistake because he stopped with Pixie looking straight into his right ear, where of course she saw the earwig. She got up quickly and backed away a step or two.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

Tim and the two other girls were not aware of her movement, but Ziva had caught it in the monitor. She quickly pointed it out to Xander who leaned into the mike. "Tim, I want you to stay calm. I think that Pinkie just made you but you need to make sure. Take a quick glance to your right and check on her." Before Xander could say anything else, Gibbs' voice came over the com. "Ziva, you and Tony come to the back, Xander; you go in the front if things go wrong and make sure they don't get past you if they decided to head out the front."

Light flared for an instant as Ziva left the van at a run, and Xander heard Tony's, "Moving now, Boss," over the com but he was focused on what was going on in the club. As McGee moved, the camera moved with him and Xander saw the pink girl with a strange expression on her face. What was more worrying was that she seemed to be reaching behind her for something. Thinking quickly, Xander leaned in and muttered a suggestion to Tim and then sat back to watch how things were going to play out.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

Tim saw the small girl backing away a step or two; there was a strange expression on her face. What was more important to Tim was that she seemed to be reaching for something behind her. "He's got something in his ear," she burst out, her voice sounding shrill. If things weren't so serious, Tim would have smiled when Xander's suggestion came over the com, but it was serious and he remained focused.

"What do you mean?" Argent asked.

"I mean there's something in his ear, like a radio or something," again her voice was shrill. "Like something I saw in a cop show once." Idly Tim noted that she was now holding a chromed barbeque fork in her right hand.

The other two girls turned to look at Tim. All this time he hadn't moved, had made no grab for a weapon or done anything to provoke a response. He turned his head slowly back to look at Argent and Pixie took a step back towards them. "Well?" the silver girl asked.

Tim just smiled at her, and then in a burst of motion, grabbed the book in both hands and pivoted, turning at his waist. The heavy tome caught Pixie on the side of her head and the tiny girl went flying. Tim continued the motion and bolted for the back door.

Argent and Belladonna were shocked at the sudden violence and sat for just a second before charging after the fleeing man. He'd hurt Pixie and taken their book, both things were not acceptable. As they moved in pursuit, knives appeared in both their hands.

"Coming out the back, Boss," Tim said over the com and then raced for the back door. He knew that the other two would be right behind him and was hoping that he'd be able to make it to the back door before the entire club decided to get involved. He decided not to take advantage of the various twists and turns of the club because the two chasing him were a lot more familiar with the place. No, his best hope was to make it outside where he had backup, not to mention the fact that he could then use his gun, something that wouldn't be possible in the crowded club. His right hand reached down as he ran and wrapped around the hilt of the trench knife he'd gotten from Xander, Tim figured he'd probably need it.

The back hallway was even more crowded than it had been and Tim was forced to slow down. This scared him because he could hear the sound of running feet behind him, even over the blaring sound system. He started prying his way through the kids, leaving shouts of "Hey" and "Watch it Man" in his wake. He got to a space that was relatively clear and looked for the back door.

He found it, but for whatever reason there was a hulking guy standing in front of it, like he was the guard or something. The guy was huge, but not as big as the guy at the front door. Skulls seemed to be his theme as he had several tattooed on various parts of his body. Mentally Tim shrugged and picked up speed, screaming "Move," as he ran.

The guy gave him a smart assed grin and said, "Why?"

Tim didn't bother to answer. As he closed with the huge youth, his right hand flashed out and he sucker punched the guy right on the point of his jaw with the knife's brass knuckle grip. Even as the big guy started to sag, Tim's left hand; which still had the book in it, wedged itself behind the guy and by turning with both his legs and hips; Tim propelled skull boy towards his pursuers. He used the extra momentum and crashed into the door with his back, springing it open. It hurt like hell, but since he could still walk, Tim figured that there wasn't any permanent damage.

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Seeing McGee in the alley behind the club, Ziva slowed down and looked for somewhere to observe. She spotted Gibbs off to one side and could see Tony coming from the other direction so she quickly ducked behind a dumpster. It provided cover and let her see what was going on with a minimum of exposure. As she was getting settled, Ziva saw DiNozzo find a similar spot for himself. Now all they had to do was wait for Tim to lure the girls into their trap.

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As he ran for the front door, Xander wondered how he had managed to pull the short straw. There were four agents in the back to deal with two suspects, meanwhile Xander had to wade through a sea of glitter and get past King Kong's little brother in order to slap the cuffs on someone who may be a serial killer in a club full of people that were not thrilled with authority. This job could suck like that. He burst through the front door and was at the inner door before the front had a chance to close. Fortunately for Xander, the behemoth of a bouncer was trying to figure out what was going on at the back door and so wasn't prepared for him bursting through the way he did. He whipped back around at the sound of the door crashing open and then froze. Xander was standing there with his ID in his right hand, and more importantly, one of his Colt's in his left hand. "Federal Agent, I need to get through here," Xander said as calmly as he was able.

The bouncer was looking like he might object, on general principles if nothing else, when the Colt went from being at Xander's side to being pointed at the bouncer's nose. Slowly the man put up his hands and rumbled, "Come on in."

Xander eased around the man-mountain and worked his way into the club proper. It took him a second or two to get his bearings, but when he did he hurried to where Tim had met the three girls. On the ground near their table, one of the guys from the club was trying to help Pinkie to her feet; the chromed fork was still on the ground. Xander held up his ID and shouted out, "Federal Agent, step away from the girl."

The guy looked up and saw Xander; he glanced at the girl and a couple of people in the crowd as though he was trying to figure out what to do. Slowly he raised both his hands and stepped away. The girl stood there, swaying on her feet, she was short, even shorter than Buffy. Her makeup and the way she was dressed gave her an air of innocence that Xander knew was just that, a look and nothing more. She looked at Xander, noting the missing eye and the gun in his left hand; her eyes darted from the gun in his hand to the fork on the floor, she was thinking stupid thoughts. "Don't do it," Xander bellowed, aiming the Colt.

Her eyes darted around the club, taking in the crowd that surrounded her, and she began to smirk. It was clear that she thought that she had the upper hand for some reason; maybe she thought that Xander wouldn't fire in a crowded club or that the fact he was missing an eye meant he was a poor shot. Xander shook his head at the girl's stupidity, he figured it was the concussion talking, that or she heard really dumb voices in her head. He eased towards her, ready to act.

Suddenly she stooped down her right hand groping for the fork while she tried to keep an eye on Xander. As soon as she moved, Xander took one step forward and his right leg came up, like he was punting a football. He kicked the girl right in the gut. He hadn't held back at all.

The pink haired girl was lifted off the ground for a few seconds, actually she got some impressive air, but then she crashed back to the floor. Pinkie had lost whatever interest she had in finding the fork or getting away in favor of her new hobby, which was trying to breath at the same time she was losing her lunch. She writhed on the ground, gasping and retching by turns, tears of pain pouring out her eyes. Xander stood over her, seemingly indifferent to her suffering, making sure that neither the girl nor the fork disappeared. As soon as she looked to be getting everything under control, Xander darted down and pulled her hands behind her back and slapped a pair of handcuffs on her. Then, with her restrained, he put on a pair of gloves and collected the fork. Then he pulled Pinkie to her feet and headed for the back door. It was time to wrap things up.

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Tim slowed down a bit and glanced back into the club. The two girls were still getting untangled from the guy that Tim had just punched into unconsciousness. He wanted them to follow him, so he had to kill time by looking lost. He could hear them getting clear, so he headed down the alley towards Gibbs. He was moving quickly, but not nearly as fast as he had been. McGee knew that both Ziva and Tony were covering his back so he felt that he could finally breathe easier, it was almost over. He heard shouts as the two who were chasing him finally exited the club and spotted him. He hurried on for a few more steps and then, when he knew he was past where Gibbs was waiting; he turned with the book in his left hand and his ID now visible in his right. "Federal Officer, you're under arrest," he said formally.

The two girls looked like they were about to say something smart when both Ziva and Tony told them to drop their knives and kneel on the ground. For a second it looked like they might copy Pixie's stupidity, but they slowly did what they'd been told to do. They were getting cuffed and read their rights when Xander came out of the club hauling the smallest member of the trio. "I've got number three here," he said tiredly.

"Nice work Probie Hook," Tony said with a grin. "We might even replace Sparkle boy here with you in the future." Both Xander and Tim glared at Tony, but by now he was immune to death glares from anyone but Gibbs.

"Thanks for this," Tim said, handing Xander his knife back. Then he looked at the book with disgust. "Is this really human skin?"

"Yeah, it really is," Xander replied. "Back when this thing was written, people were dropping like flies from disease, so if you didn't have any leather from cows or whatever, then there was plenty of human skin available for binding."

"Gross," Tim said and practically threw the thing at Xander; he didn't want to have anything to do with it anymore.

"So how are we handling this Boss," Tony asked.

"We'll take their statements here and then give it and all our evidence to the Federal Prosecutor in Chicago. They'll finish it up," Gibbs replied. He wasn't gonna tell Harris this, but he was sick of the cold too.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Xander, Tony and Gibbs were taking the three girl's statements while McGee was organizing all the evidence. Ziva probably should have been helping him, but she had begged off, saying that she'd never seen this part of the country and wanted to look around while she had the chance. The truth was that she was looking for answers and she'd finally found someone to ask.

"I was wondering when I'd see you again," Tucker said as the woman walked into the Bronze.

"That is him, isn't it," Ziva asked without preamble. She pointed at the poster of the Paladin, "That is Harris."

"You want to know what I know about him?" Tucker continued without answering the question. "You want to know all of the subtext and what the code words that came out in that conversation mean?" He smirked at her surprised look. "Despite what everyone thinks, I'm not an idiot Ms. David."

"So you will tell me what I want to know?"

"And if I don't then I suppose you'll get creative with a knife or something and play with my entrails?"

"I wouldn't cause any lasting damage," Ziva purred dangerously.

Tucker chuckled for a second. "Lady, whatever you would do to me would be a walk in the park compared to what any of them would do to me," he replied, waving his hand at the other posters.

"So Xander knows these people?"

"Listen Ms. David. I get the fact that you're curious. I get the fact that you want to know as much as you can about someone you work with and have to trust your life to. But in life there are lines that once you cross them, you can never cross back. Your life will change and not for the better and the only thing you'll get out of the knowledge you gain is less sleep and that's if you're lucky. I doubt you'll listen to me," Tucker said, standing; "but you'll be a lot better off if you just accept the fact that Xander is a good guy with a lot of secrets that should remain secret. If you go poking around too much you'll find out that there are secrets that bite."

Ziva was confused. The conversation certainly hadn't gone the way she'd expected. Still there were things that had been implied that she could work on. The question was, did she want to disregard what Mr. Wells was saying. "Are you telling me that Xander is a danger to me?"

"Directly, no; he's no danger. But you're in danger just by being around him. Who he is and what he does makes him dangerous. Since he was in High School, people around him have been dying violent, messy deaths. And don't let the goofy guy façade fool you. If you're his friend then he's not dangerous, but if you get on the wrong side of him, well the first thing you do is make sure your affairs are in order because you're as good as dead."

He sat down in front of Ziva, "Let me tell you a story, after all that's what I do. A few years back, back when he was in Africa, some nimrod decided that he needed all the answers about the Council, where they were and how they opperated. So he sets a trap and captures a couple of Xander's agents, figuring he can squeeze them for info and leverage Harris into dancing to the nimrod's tune. Well needless to say, Xander goes in and gets them out. But something went wrong and someone was left behind to cover their escape. Specifically, it was his girlfriend that stayed. Anyway, he gets the agents out of the country and then turns around and heads back in, no rest, no food, he just loads up on ammo and goes back in. He gets to Mr. Wanna-Be's place and just blows right in through the front door. Three days later, he walks out with his girlfriend's body. Of the forty people at that place, one survived. And the only reason he survived was because Xander wanted someone to tell the tale."

"How can you be sure of that?" Ziva asked, caught up in the story.

"Because the bastard's arms and legs had been cut off and the stumps cauterized with a blowtorch," Tucker responded calmly. "And the message got through. No one ever messed with Council personnel again, at least not in Africa." Tucker looked Ziva right in the eye, "So if you ever cross him, or worse, hurt someone he cares about; then stay the hell away from me, cause he'd go through hell to get to you and I don't' wanna get killed in the crossfire." He stood up and Ziva could think of nothing that she wanted to ask at the moment; her head was churning with too much information as it was. She just nodded at Wells and had turned for the door when Tucker's voice called out, "Ms. David."

"Yes," Ziva said, turning

"Could you take these to Xander," he asked, holding out the kind of tube you put blueprints or posters in.

Ziva glared at him a second and then just nodded, took the tube and left. You could hear Tucker's sigh of relief throughout the club.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

"We've got Tiffany Milton, age 22 and she goes by the name Pixie," DiNozzo began. The guys were comparing notes after interviewing the three suspects. "She grew up outside of Des Moines Iowa on a farm, so Ducky got that one right. She declined the option of having a lawyer present and sang like a superstar. I've gotta say boss, I don't know if we've ever had a dumber suspect since I've been with NCIS. According to her, she came to Chicago after High School, looking for work and found it in all the wrong places. She eventually ended up living with and apparently sleeping with Miss DeBalla after they worked together at a topless joint on Race Street. They moved up here a year ago and met Miss Hendricks. The three started living together and were intermittently employed in more or less legitimate businesses. Apparently they took a few jobs on the side snatching and grabbing, shoplifting and that kind of thing to make ends meet but nothing big time until they stole the book."

"When they got the book everything changed," Xander picked up the narrative. "We still don't know who hired them to lift the book or why but when he didn't show up for the by, the girls were left holding the merchandise. Amber Hendricks, who is from Chicago and graduated from Northwestern and now insists her name is Argent, took some Latin in College and could read the book, well at least get a rough idea of what it was talking about. Anyway, she came across a ritual that promised wealth and power so she talked it over with the others and they decided it was worth a go. They would take turns scouting around for guys and when they found one they liked, they'd invite him to the club. Apparently they invited several guys on the nights when they needed a sacrifice so they'd be sure that one would show. The first guy through the door was the lamb for the evening. Now since no guy is gonna pass up a chance at three fairly cute girls, getting him alone wasn't difficult. Also, since guys are kind of an afterthought for the three, they targeted better looking guys. From there it went pretty much like DiNozzo said, the guy goes up to the roof of their building and gets the night of his life but ultimately ends up forked." A head slap from Gibbs punctuated Xander's narrative.

"From there, DeBalla took over. She's twenty three and joined the Army right after High School," Gibbs continued. "She was assigned to EOD and was one week into her first tour in Iraq when her partner clipped the wrong wire and got himself blown up. She caught some fragments in the throat and that's why her voice sounds the way it does. She owns an old Lincoln Continental, which is being towed in at the moment, which we believe they used to transport the bodies to where they were found. She also admits to painting those symbols on the ground in the victims' blood. It looks like she scouted the dump locations and handled all of the logistics."

"Why go through all of this McGee asked, why sacrifice people and perform this elaborate ritual, what was in it for them?"

"They figured that they'd been short-changed," Xander replied. "For as long as people have been around there have been those who felt that someone else had lied, cheated or stolen what should have been theirs. So they revert to Kindergarten and call on the ultimate "Big Brother" to punish the people that have cheated them and to get what they feel they deserve. The difficulty and elaborate nature of the ritual is there so that the person performing it can show their god, or whoever they happen to be calling on, how hard working; dedicated and deserving they are of his favors. The willingness to kill their fellow man is kind of the ultimate demonstration of this."

"So, basically, these girls wanted to summon a wish granting Genie," Tim concluded. "And they killed four men to show that they were serious."

"That's pretty much it," Xander replied. Then he turned to Gibbs, "Is the book staying here or are we bringing it back with us?"

"Why?"

"I'm just curious about the where, but we really need to keep the book's title out of the paperwork."

"Again, why?"

"Because these three idiots aren't the only ones who think they could use it. De Vermis Mysteriis is one of the most sought after texts in the magical community." Xander made air quotes with his hands. "If word got out that a copy had surfaced, then we'd have every wanna be Merlin charging through the gates of the Navy Yard convinced that their 'Protection Amulet' or 'Armored Tighty Whities' or whatever would keep them from getting turned into Swiss Cheese by the Marines. These people are idiots, that doesn't mean I want them to be dead idiots. The other thing is that the book really is worth a half million dollars. Again, if word surface that there was a copy available then every rich collector out there, and there are more than a few, would be scheming to steal the thing. So if you have to mention the book, don't name the thing. There'll be a lot less hassle that way."

"Hang on a second there Billy Bones," DiNozzo started. "Are you telling me that if these dim bulbs had just sold the book, that they'd be splitting half a million dollars?"

"Pretty much," Xander replied.

"Four guys killed and three girls in jail for life, all for nothing," McGee said sadly.

"Most people are killed over nothing McGee," Gibbs replied. And on that note, the four went back to organizing their files and getting everything ready for the Federal Prosecutor.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

The four of them were standing in the hallway of the VIP section of base housing when Ziva came bustling out of her room. Gibbs looked bored, McGee was tapping away at his Smart Phone, Tony was trying not to say anything about her being late, and Harris just looked amused. She closed the door and with and turned, walking right up to Xander. She slowly pulled the tube out of her things and handed it to him, her gaze never leaving his eye. "Mr. Wells sent these over for you, he said to tell you that there was no charge."

Xander held Ziva's gaze. For once he didn't smile or make a joke. He figured that Ziva would take the opportunity to talk to Tucker. He had no idea what Wells had told her, like his brother, Tucker just couldn't keep his mouth shut. But he figured that the geek had regaled Ziva with some of the usual Xander lore. But the look in her eyes said that something had been said, a crucial piece of information had passed from Tucker to Ziva and now the Israeli knew something vital, something she thought that she could use to leverage answers out of him.

"Thanks Ziva," he said his lips curling into a smile. 'Bring it on,' the smile said, 'You think you got something, then bring it on.'

She just smirked back and Xander knew that she would.


	16. I Love You More pt 1

I Love You More pt. 1

"It must be hard," Xander said.

"What?" Ziva answered tersely as she watched the building down the street.

"Going into the holidays with no real family to speak of."

Ziva pulled back from the binoculars and turned to face Xander. "I do have family," she said firmly. The look he gave her bothered Ziva, it felt like he was looking right into her soul, if that were possible. They were staking out a building that was supposed to be the headquarters of a drug running operation. One that had killed a Marine who had most likely been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

After a searching look, Xander smiled. "I understand."

"What do you understand?"

"That sometimes we get short-changed by the families that we're born into, so we find our families instead. Make them from the special people that we find in our lives."

"We?" she askd.

"My parents weren't exactly ideal, that is unless you were running a liquor store. So I found people in my life that became my true family. It's tougher at times I think, but I wouldn't trade them for the world."

Ziva considered the man sitting next to her. She'd learned a lot about him in the last couple of days as they'd been on stake out. He was hard to categorize, but the closest she could come to was that he was samurai. She realized that the reference was unusual, but when she was younger, Ziva had read the code of the samurai, and the description seemed to fit Xander to a tee. He was quiet and respectful, if a bit overly playful at times; and the voice of calm reason, that is until action was called for. Then he was as ruthless as anyone she'd ever met and more focused than a laser, the story she'd heard in Chicago came immediately to mind.

Right now, though, just sitting and talking with him, Xander gave off this aura of safety; as though she would always be fine when he was around. It was an unusual feeling for Ziva, growing up where and how she had; but there was no denying that his mere presence made her feel comfortable, even safe. It bothered her more than she would willingly admit because she'd trained herself to not need anyone, to only rely on herself for protection because ultimately the only thing you could rely on was yourself. And now she was starting to wonder if that was true. Certainly she knew that she could rely on her team at NCIS, her real family if she was being honest with herself, and she believed that she could rely on this strange man, despite the fact that he was almost certainly the person her father was interested in.

She was saved from saying anything else as she saw someone leaving the building they were watching. Whoever it was was doing the absolute worst casual walk in the history of the world. She leaned forwards into the eyepieces and started describing the person. Xander was writing down the description and identifying features when he suddenly spoke up. "Does he have two hoop earrings in his left ear? Kind of elaborate hoops if you know what I mean."

Ziva adjusted her aim and magnification, "Yes he does," she replied. Then she turned to Xander, "Is this someone you know?"

"Yeah, and more importantly, it's someone I can lean on," he said getting up. "I'm gonna go shake this guy down; maybe he can give us what we need." As Ziva started to get up he continued; "This guy knows me, if he sees you he'll either run or clam up so I'm better doing this solo." Xander saw that Ziva was wavering so he blurted out with, "Trust me, okay; you just keep an eye on us and come running if I need it?"

There it was, out in the open; a request for trust. And that was really the question of the day, wasn't it. Did she trust the one-eyed man? She could rely on him, he had the skill and ability to watch her back but did she trust him to do so? "You are the Paladin, are you not," she asked out of the blue, she even managed to surprise herself with the question because she hadn't planned on asking that until she had more facts at her command.

"Yeah," he replied, slumping a bit; "I am."

Ziva just nodded and went back to her binoculars, "You should hurry," she said.

Xander grinned and slipped out the door of the storefront that they were using for surveillance. His mark was a bit ahead, but easily within Xander's range. As he hurried along, he was kicking himself; he had known that those damn posters would come back to bite him in the ass. Now the only thing he could do was to try and keep Ziva from figuring out who the other three were. He doubted that he would be successful, but he had to at least try. Now, though, he was coming up on the guy he was gonna shake down. It was time for the game face.

"Stevie, what are you doing out here?" he asked.

The guy in front of him froze and looked back to see who it was. For a second he thought about bolting but then just slumped against the wall in resignation instead. "Xander, what are you doing out of Africa?"

"Temporary assignment," he replied tersely. "What are you doing fooling around with human drugs, that crap doesn't do anything for you?"

"It's not for me," 'Stevie', replied. "It's for my Grandma, she came down from Greenland to visit but the heat down here is messing with her."

"And this crap helps?"

"Yeah," the demon said. "When we get older it gets tough to regulate our internal temperatures. That's why all of our elders live in Greenland or Siberia, places like that; it keeps em from overheating. Anyway, this junk works as a temporary boost to our regulatory systems and my Grandma forgot her supply, so I had to dig some up."

"I've got no problem with that," Xander said. "But where you just bought was under surveillance because we think the scumbags running the joint killed a Marine a couple of days ago, you your face is now on our tapes and things could get awkward."

"So what's gonna happen," 'Stevie' asked, seeing where this was going.

"I'll claim that you're a Confidential Informant, that buys you limited immunity; and in exchange for that, you tell me numbers, weapons and the layout of where you just were."

"Deal," the demon immediately replied and then laid out everything he knew for Xander, it took a minute or two.

The two shook hands and Xander passed over a card with his contact info, just in case. As they were parting he called out, "Tell your folks to stop hunting in only Silver Springs, have them expand their range a bit."

"Huh," 'Stevie' asked, too stunned to say anything else.

"You wouldn't believe the number of missing cats reported in the area. It's getting to the point where the police are actually taking a look at it, so have them spread it out a bit or I won't be able to help you."

"Sure thing," the demon said and jogged off.

Xander just grinned and shook his head; demons could be funny like that; so like humans and yet so different at the same time. Now that he had the information they needed, his only problem was how to manage Ziva.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Tony figured that it was the kind of day when you seemed to be just sitting around, waiting for something to brighten up your day when the girl walked in. She was tall, slender and well muscled, conservatively dressed, quite good looking and when she walked into the bullpen, Tony was pretty sure that he was in love. When she opened her mouth and a soft English accent popped out, he was certain of it. "Excuse me, but where could I find Alexander Harris?"

"He's out at the moment Miss . . . . ."

"Maria, my name is Maria," the girl answered in her devastating accent. "And you are?"

"Very Special Agent Tony DiNozzo," Tony replied. "You could wait here for him if you want to," he continued. "He and Ziva are out on a stakeout and I'm not really sure when they'll be back."

Maria started to answer but was interrupted when Abby burst in. "Tony, have you seen Gibbs?"

"Not lately, he had some business at the Pentagon and said he wouldn't be back for a while; why?"

"There are some results he wanted pronto, but Mr. Mass Spec is acting up and the service people say it's going to be at least two days before they can get out here."

"What seems to be the problem?" Maria asked, surprisingly.

"Ummm," Abby began. "The oven in the GC portion is not running the gradient properly." She had figured to cut Miss Interuptus off at the pass with a bit of technobable.

"Do you know if the problem is with the control software or the internal run program?" the girl replied, obviously not fazed by the technical terms.

"It's internal," Abby replied, now she was intrigued.

"Are you using the Agilent or Waters GC/MS?"

"Neither, it's a Hewlett-Packard," Abby answered, shocked that someone was familiar with the instrument in question.

"Ahhhh," Maria said. "One of the older models. I can show you a workaround that I learned when I was in an intern program with Bayer Labs."

"Really?" Abby said, brightening up immediately. "Come with me," and she grabbed the taller girl's hand and started tugging her towards the elevator.

Abby's mile a minute babble was cut off when the elevator door closed and Tony just stood there, shocked that his goddess had abandoned him already. He grinned and wandered back to his desk, maybe he'd visit Abby in a few minutes.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

Tim was nervous, he was needing a favor from Abby and she was currently ticked with him because he wouldn't put on his Goth clothes for her. He walked in with a Caff-Pow in his hand and stopped cold. What he saw wasn't Abby; it was a pair of coffee colored legs that seemed impossibly long, bent over one of Abby's instruments. He just stood there nearly drooling for a second or two as his brain simply refused to re-boot.

"Can I help you," a musical voice came from the direction of the legs.

"Uhhh, Abby; I was looking for Abby," McGee stammered out.

"She is looking for some wire that we can use to temporarily fix this Mass Spec," the voice replied.

To Tim, the voice was almost musical. It was quite deep for a woman's voice and even though the accent sounded British, he could hear different influences underneath it. "Do you know when she'll be back?"

"No, she went to see, Ducky, I believe she said that was his name."

"And you are?" McGee asked.

"Maria, my name is Maria," the voice replied and with an interesting hip movement, the girl stood up. She was tall, taller than Tim, but that didn't bother him much. Her face was heart shaped, almost delicate; with large, liquid eyes and a small nose over full lips. McGee was enchanted.

"So what brings you here, Maria?"

"I need to meet with Alexander Harris and while I was waiting upstairs, the young woman here had a problem that I could help her with, so here I am."

"And how long will you be here?"

"I'm not sure," she actually seemed surprised by Tim's obvious interest in her and was consequently reacting a bit shyly.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

"So what did you get?" Gibbs asked as his two agents walked into the bull-pen.

"Names, layout, ID's, pretty much everything," Xander replied casually.

"You're kidding," DiNozzo blurted out. The locals had been trying to get anything they could on the place for nearly a month.

"No, we are not," Ziva smirked at the other agent. "Xander spotted a snitch coming out of the place and roasted him."

"Rousted," Tony corrected. Meanwhile, Gibbs did that eyebrow thing he was so good at that said, 'Tell me more'.

"I spotted one of my CI's coming out of the place and I convinced him that it was in his best interest to tell me what he knew." He handed over a map of the interior along with the size of the crew and weapons seen. "I've got a few descriptions as well, but I doubt they're worth much, you know; 'Dark hair, dark eyes', that kind of thing."

"So what do we do, boss?" DiNozzo asked.

Gibbs studied the material that Xander had handed him and finally said, "We inform the local PD and then ask to be in on the take-down. Afterwards, we'll test the guns seized and figure out who shot the marine. He's ours," Gibbs all but growled out the last.

"One thing," Xander said. "You might want to advise them to check for any sewer access." When everyone looked at him strangely he continued, "The gangs in Sunnydale used the damned things like they were highways. I wouldn't want to go busting in and have all my suspects escaping right below my feet."

"I'll pass it on," Gibbs muttered as he headed up to see Leon.

There was silence for about ten seconds and then the elevator dinged and everyone heard the sound of feminine laughter. "Oh, that is just so wrong," DiNozzo said as McGee emerged with a tall young woman who was obviously laughing at something he'd said. They were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. The girl looked up and shrieked, "Papa Xander," and nearly flew across the floor to grab the man in a rib crunching hug and started babbling a mile a minute.

Looking nervous, Tim sidled over to the other two and whispered, "Did she just call him 'Papa Xander'?"

"Yeah, she did McGee," Tony turned to him. "You were the one who told us he had adopted two kids."

"Yeah, I just . . . . ." McGee trailed off as he watched the two speaking faster than anyone should be able to. As he did, something else bubbled up in his mind, the conversation that he'd had with Harris as he'd dropped him off at the church. The girl had been in Lisbon, and a building full of people had collapsed in Lisbon. Xander had been clear that the girl could very well have been a cause of that. It was difficult to reconcile the shy young woman with someone who would destroy a building and it weighed on his mind. He was snapped out of his thoughts by someone calling his name, "Huh?"

"I said come over here Tim, you and I need to have a brief discussion," Xander said with an almost feral smile.

"Papa," the girl started to protest but went silent with a look from Harris.

He reached into his desk and pulled out an object, "Do you know what this is?"

"It's a trenching shovel," McGee answered.

"Do you know what makes this the perfect tool?"

"No."

"It's the versatility," Xander replied. "You see, I could use it to beat you to death, then dismember you with it, and finally use it to hide your remains. Three functions in one tool, isn't that remarkable."

Tim was starting to sweat.

"Now if you hurt her in any way, you will get to experience its versatility for yourself, am I clear."

To Tim it seemed like Xander was now eight feet tall and wreathed in darkness. "Crystal," he heard himself stammer out. He turned his head briefly and saw that Tony was trying to hold back his laughter and that Ziva just looked impressed. The mood was broken by the sound of a slap.

"Papa, how am I ever going to meet anyone if you scare them off before I can even speak to them?"

"You spoke to Tim."

"Only because you weren't here when I arrived."

"True, but it is my duty as a father to scare every boy that starts sniffing around you until you're either fifty or married. Besides, if they can't take the 'shovel speech', how are they going to handle you when you're all grumpy?"

"I am not as scary as you are," the girl protested.

"I know a lot of people who would dispute that," Xander shot back. "Buffy especially."

"That was not my fault," Maria grumped. "Besides, I was provoked," she justified.

"Riiight," Xander replied, then he turned to his co-workers. "Everyone, I'd like you to formally meet my daughter, Maria Harris. Maria, this is Tony DiNozzo, Ziva David and you've already met Tim McGee."

Greetings were exchanged and then Maria said, "But where is Mr. Gibbs?" There was a moment of silence and she said, "He is right behind me, isn't he?"

"Yep," Gibbs drawled out. "Nice to meet you Miss Harris," he said as the girl whirled around to face him.

"So what's the plan boss," McGee asked.

"Alexandria PD wants to hit the place in two hours, we're there to assist with the takedown, and later handle the crime scene."

"Because Abby is the best there is at processing, right boss," Tony asked.

Gibbs just gave a little grin and said nothing. "Be ready to move in one hour," he finished. He turned and held Xander's gaze for an instant, then his eyes flicked to Maria and then back to Xander, one eyebrow went up a fraction of an inch.

Xander just gave a nearly imperceptible nod as Gibbs headed towards the elevator to spread the news to Abby and Ducky.

He put his hand on the small of his daughter's back and they walked to a quiet corner so they wouldn't have to worry about being overheard. "You'll have to stay here Maria," Xander said before the girl could say anything. "This is a legal matter and you are not authorized to do anything in this country and I know you, you would not be able to hold back."

"Very well Papa," the girl said, then she brightened. "Could I come out with Abby after everyone has been arrested?"

Xander thought for a second, there wasn't any good reason to keep her away, and she might learn something. "Sure, no problem," he said, then he gave his daughter a hard look, "Abby, huh; should she get the shovel speech as well?"

"Papa," Maria blurted out, mortified that her father would even mention something like that. She knew that there were slayers who slept with other women and even those who had no preference between men and women; but she was neither of those. "I cannot believe you said that to me."

"Blame me being around Faith for so many years, it kind of killed off my PG filters."

She saw the bittersweet smile on his face. He always got melancholy when Faith was mentioned but it wasn't as bad as usual this time. It looked like she had something to look into while she would be here. "I did not bring much," she said, changing the topic away from her sex life, or rather; the lack thereof.

"Define 'Not Much'," Xander said. "For me, not much is what you can fit into a medic's bag. For Buffy, not much is what can fit into a moving van."

"You've been my Papa for how many years now," she asked with a smile.

"True, but you've been away for a while; you might have turned into a girly girl while I wasn't there to keep you in line."

This suggestion was answered with another slap.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

Ducky didn't realize that anyone was there until he was startled by the sound of Jimmy Palmer dropping a tray full of instruments. Ducky whirled to see Jimmy making a vain attempt at collecting the instruments while seemingly unable to take his eyes off of what he was looking at. Ducky turned in that direction and understood Mr. Palmer's reaction.

"Good day Doctor Mallard," the lovely young woman said. Her accent was unusual, as though several different accents were fighting for supremacy and the effect was musical.

"Good Afternoon young lady," he replied gallantly. Ducky figured that anyone who got this far would have the blessings of Jethro and the rest so he determined the level of danger to be low. "May I ask your name?"

"Of course," she replied. "I am Maria Harris, Alexander's daughter. He has spoken highly of you and your assistant and I am honored to meet you both." Here she gave Ducky a slight smirk, much like her father's and then turned an amused glance towards Jimmy, who only seemed to be able to stir the fallen instruments around without actually picking anything up. Then her language changed as she spoke to Ducky only. "/I have also met your nephew, and he is a fine Watcher, truly a credit to your family/."

"/Thank you young one/," Ducky replied in the same language. "/I take it that you are one of the young ladies that he watches/?"

"/Not directly, but I am like them. And am I correct in remembering that you are the only one here who truly knows of the dark/?"

"/I am young warrior/."

"/Then do not hesitate to call me if help is needed and my father is not available Elder/."

"/I will call you if you are needed young one, many thanks for your offer/."

"/It is my calling/," she replied with a small bow for Ducky.

"Indeed it is," he replied, and turned, grinning at Jimmy. Haven't you cleaned that up yet Mr. Palmer?" He turned back to the girl, "And what brings you down here today young lady?"

"I am to come with you . . . . I believe Papa said 'When the shooting stops'."

Ducky gave a small laugh, "That is when I prefer to show up," he sighed. "I'm afraid I'm getting too old to dodge bullets anymore." He looked up at the girl again. "You may wish to see if young Abigail needs any assistance."

"I will sir and good day again," she turned and left as silently as a cat.

"Good lord Mr. Palmer, you'd think you'd never seen a pretty girl before. Now get that lot cleaned up and make sure the field kits are ready to go."

"Yes Doctor," Jimmy stuttered out, embarrassed beyond belief.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

The whole mess was balls up before anything even got started. Apparently it was an election year and Alexandria's Chief of Police was grandstanding for the press, making a show of how they were dealing with the drug trade. That meant a lot of police, without a lot of special equipment or vests or even SWAT. The fool wasn't even putting people on the surrounding buildings for oversight. As for the NCIS personnel, Gibbs was covering the front along with McGee while DiNozzo, David and Harris were covering the back. Why they were deployed where they were was a mystery to them all, but in the name of interdepartmental co-operation, they kept their mouths shut. Something that Leon wished they'd do more often.

Ziva, Tony and Xander were standing at the south corner, watching the back of the building for anyone trying to get out. The three exchanged a silent look as the Sergeant told them to stay where they were as he and an officer walked the ally to make sure it was clear. The level of condescension was such that all three wanted to say something, and in the case of Ziva and Xander, hit something or someone as well; but they had promised Leon to play nice, and so they kept quiet. The two officers headed down the alley and then everything just went to hell.

The sound of automatic fire erupted from the building and the three NCIS agents immediately took cover. The two Arlington police officers though, just stood in the alley, gaping at the unexpected sounds. They were still standing there when bullets started raining down around them from the roof. The Sergeant caught one in the head, the spatter from the exit wound painting a gruesome picture on the wall while the other officer was hit in the leg and went down.

With a cry of "Cover me," Ziva dashed into the alley, grabbed the wounded officer by the shoulders and dragged him into the shelter of a dumpster. When she had taken off, both Tony and Xander had started popping in the direction of the shooter, forcing the bastard to keep his head down. But then fire erupted from another part of the roof and suddenly the brick dust was flying around Tony and Xander, forcing them to take cover. The two exchanged glances, their faces were smudged and nicks from shards of brick had blood dotting their faces. Both men could properly evaluate the situation and both men knew that this was not good. There were two men with automatic weapons up there and Ziva was pinned down.

Xander stole a glance around the corner of the building and his eye met hers. It was clear that she knew the score as well and that the odds were not good. It was a look that Xander had seen too many times on Slayer's faces and he vowed right then and there that this time it was gonna end well. No matter what it took, no matter what he had to do, Ziva was walking out of there.


	17. I Love You More pt 2

I Love You More pt. 2

If he could, Tony DiNozzo would have slapped himself. He was trying to figure out what to do about the mess they were in when the obvious solution came to him. As Harris was blindly popping away in the general direction of the bad guys, just to give Ziva a little bit of cover; Tony pulled out the radio, "Boss, we've got a situation back here."

"We've got one up here DiNozzo," Gibbs replied. There was a moment of silence and then, "What's the situation?"

"Ziva's pinned down in the alley back here with a wounded cop. There's one, maybe two bad guys on the roof with automatics and she can't last long where she is." Tony hated laying things out like that, but he wouldn't sugar coat the situation.

"McGee and I are stuck out front here, DiNozzo. You and Harris buy her some time and we'll get there as soon as we can."

"Got it Boss," Tony replied. Then he turned to Harris and hoped that the other man had some sort of an idea. The slightly feral grin the one eyed man was wearing as he emptied one of his 45's in the general direction of the bad guys; made Tony immediately wish that Harris would have come up with nothing. "Do I even want to ask?"

"Probably not," Xander replied, his grin getting even more crazed. "You've got your choice today Tony, High Noon or 300."

"What?" Tony asked, completely confused.

"The way I figure it, you can either climb that fire escape and face the bad guys straight up, or take the first aid kit and carry that piece of corrugated steel over there into the alley like a mobile shield and walk Ziva and that idiot out of there." Again he leaned around the corner of the building and emptied one of his clips at the opposite roof.

Now the movie references made sense to Tony. Then, with a bit of a chill, he realized that in both of them, the good guys bought it. "And what will you be doing?"

"Whichever one you don't choose," was the quick reply as Harris reloaded his hands seemingly on autopilot.

"I'll go up," Tony replied after a few seconds thought. He turned to head across the alley to the fire escape when he felt Harris' hand on his shoulder.

"Take this," the man said, holding out his Glock.

Tony realized that there were three clips in his other hand, clips that looked ridiculously long. "What the hell?"

"It's a Glock 18, the thing will go fully automatic if you want, and these are 31 round clips."

"Thanks," Tony said and grabbed the gun and clips. He closed his eyes and then dashed across the open end of the alley, jumped and pulled the ladder down and was soon climbing up the escape as fast as he could.

Meanwhile Xander dashed over to the stack of sheet steel that was leaning against a nearby building and tried to find the largest one piece he could carry. He soon found the right sized piece and pulled it towards the corner of the building. Two quick shots from a 45 and the threaded some rope through the holes so he could carry the damned thing a bit easier. As Xander was doing this, he glanced at Ziva, just to make sure she was still doing okay. Again their eyes met for just a second and for whatever reason Xander felt a connection form with the Israeli. Now wasn't the time to try and quantify things or examine his feelings, but he did at least acknowledge to himself that there were feelings to examine. He looked over and saw DiNozzo near the roof and picking up the sheet of metal, walked openly into the alley. Once again he was playing bait.

He felt the impacts from the bullets as two men opened up on him. It was damned near impossible to walk anything approaching a straight line with the bullets impacting the sheet of metal he was carrying. More worrying were the occasional holes that were punched through the metal, but despite everything he kept moving. Suddenly the fire slackened and he could hear the almost purring sound of the Glock. Tony was keeping one of the guys busy and Xander's job just got easier. He hurried as best he could to the side of the dumpster where Ziva was hunkered down. Xander leaned the sheet of metal against the dumpster so their temporary bunker was taking most of the weight and he could keep it in place with just one arm.

"Are you insane?" were the first words that greeted him.

"Quite possibly," he replied, passing over his minimal first aid kit. "How are you doing?"

"A couple of flesh wounds," was her terse reply. "A few stitches and I will be fine."

"Cool," Xander replied, figuring that what Ziva called a flesh wound, most everyone else would consider a possible cause for amputation but he didn't want to push things right now. "Can he walk?" he asked, indicating the patrolman.

"No," Ziva replied, "at least not without help." Just then a ricochet whined off the wall and buried itself in the dumpster by the cop's head. Ziva thought that she saw the sleeve of Xander's coat twitch, but he neither flinched nor said anything.

"This neighborhood's really going to hell," Xander said lightly and stood, angling the metal for maximum protection.

It took a moment for Ziva to get the heavier man up and even then he was leaning heavily on her. She looked over at Xander and gave a brief nod and they started back for the safety of the corner of the building. The fire seemed to intensify for a few seconds, all three were sprayed with brick dust and fragments from the rounds that hit the wall and there were a couple of punch-throughs; which fortunately didn't hit anyone. The steady impact made Xander stagger as he tried to walk. It was clear that the second gunman was shooting at them as well, and this turned out to be a mistake. The three behind the shield did not hear the shot, but suddenly there was a scream and a sound like a wet sack of cement hitting the ground. Even if they hadn't heard Tony's triumphant, "Got the bastard," they would have known what had happened.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

Despite his years of military schools, not to mention working in Philadelphia and Baltimore's police departments; Tony DiNozzo had never been in a shootout like this one. He had made it up the fire escape at what felt like a dead run and poked his head up to get the lay of the land. The roof of the building was covered in vents, air ducts, little brick chimneys, air conditioning units and there was even a miniature water tower. He saw an old chimney that would provide excellent cover and jumped over the edge onto the roof and dashed over. He was able to see the guy and pulling out the Glock, let it rip in the scumbag's general direction.

He hadn't been prepared for how the gun would kick when on full automatic and only the first few rounds had been close but on the bright side, one of his wild shots bagged a pigeon and one less of those wretched things was always a plus. He glanced around the chimney and got a face full of brick dust as the bastard put some bullets dangerously close. The good news was that the gunman was no longer popping away at Ziva; the bad news was that he had switched his attention to Tony.

Tony dashed to a nearby air inlet and pulled off a few more rounds, just to keep the guy's head down. Prepared for the recoil this time, his shots were a lot more on target and this time it was the gunman diving for cover.

It went like that for at least a minute, fire and move; fire and move; change clips then fire and move some more. Tony's strategy was to pull the guy away from the alley so that Ziva and Harris only had to worry about fire from one direction. Unfortunately the bad guy figured this out and was working his way back towards the alley despite Tony's best efforts to keep him away from there. Suddenly, Tony heard someone opening up from the direction of the alley and he knew that the bastard had gotten back in a position to threaten his team-mates. He looked over and was surprised that the guy he'd been dueling with was totally focused on the alley; Tony smiled at the jag-off's mistake. He slapped a fresh clip into the Glock, took careful aim and let it rip. He saw the guy take at least three rounds in the torso. The bastard dropped his rifle and grabbed his side, a surprised look on his face. He did a half pirouette and went over the edge of the building with a scream.

He was so elated at both still being alive and getting the bastard, that Tony let out with a yell, "Got the bastard". This was a mistake because it alerted the second gunman to his presence and so Tony once again found himself diving for cover trying to get away from automatic rifle fire.

Low on ammo, he went back to fire and move, only with a lot less fire and a lot more move. All he could do was hope that help would soon arrive.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

He was exhausted and hurting but more than anything else, Alexander Harris was mad. Being under fire without being able to return it was one of the most frustrating things he'd ever been through. But the mission wasn't about bagging the bad guy, the mission was about getting everyone to safety so he bit back his agitation and focused on what he needed to do. Slowly and inexorably the three of them made their way towards the safety of the corner of the building, Xander staggering along under the weight of the shield he was carrying and Ziva staggering along under the weight of the half awake police officer. It was difficult not to try and hurry or to break cover, but the bullets ricocheting around them made it clear that to do so would most likely be fatal. Finally they were at the corner and Ziva literally collapsed around it, pulling herself and the cop further down the side away from any possible danger and clearing the spot for Xander. Seeing them safe, Xander dropped down, grounding the sheet of metal and letting it lean against the building.

Xander was exhausted but also furious and as was usual with him, the anger won out. He had been in danger and that was no big deal, but someone had endangered his pack and still lived. To the primal part of Xander Harris' brain, that was simply unacceptable.

He knelt down and faced the building, looking through a bullet hole in the sheet steel, trying to see where his target was. There; he saw movement, not a lot but he was sure of what he'd seen. He heard the sound of a nine millimeter popping off a few rounds and he knew that Tony was still in the game but more importantly, there was now clearly movement behind an air conditioning unit as the last gunman moved slightly to return fire. Obviously the guy figured Tony was the immediate threat; a feral smile graced Xander's face as he made ready to show the man his mistake. The man was well barricaded, but he was not unreachable. Xander pulled his SuperRedhawk and rising up swiftly braced his right wrist with his left hand. As soon as he was on target, he started pulling the trigger as fast as he could, fighting all the while to control the recoil and take out the final threat.

To Ziva, it sounded like an explosion was going off right next to her head. She glanced up from checking the condition of the patrolman to see Alexander standing there in the open firing that hand cannon of his, pulling the trigger so swiftly that it seemed almost unreal. She vowed to herself that if he made it out of this in one piece, she would kill him for doing something so stupid. Once the gun was empty, he spun and dropped back down behind the metal shield and swiftly reloaded. Ziva would have said something right then except for the fact that when he had crouched back down, Ziva would have sworn that his eye was glowing green. She bit back every comment or question that surged through her mind and instead turned her attention to her own wounds; there would be time to puzzle over what she'd seen later.

She'd checked the crease on her left forearm, she figured that the same shot had also grooved her right thigh but she wasn't about to take her pants off right here to check; when she noticed the quiet. She looked back over and Xander was just hunkered there, listening. In that lull, DiNozzo's voice floated down to them, "Clear". Then without a word Xander holstered his Ruger and started pulling off his coat, wincing as he did.

"How is he?" Xander asked, indicating the cop.

"Two wounds, the bleeding seems to be under control but he'll need a doctor soon and probably surgery for his left arm."

"How about you?"

"I've had worse."

"You sound like the Black Knight," Xander replied with a weak chuckle.

"Excuse me," Ziva said. "Who is this Black Knight?"

"He's a character from 'Monty Python and the Holy Grail'," Xander replied. "He gets his arm cut off but claims that 'It's only a flesh wound'; that's you in spades there Ziva."

"I'm not that bad," she harrumphed and wondered for the umpteenth time what it was with men and movies. He just looked at her in silence and she finally gave in. "One graze on my left forearm which I believe also grazed my right thigh." She paused but there was just silence and a look, "and a fairly deep crease along my left side, under my ribs."

Xander held her gaze for a second longer and then pulled off his coat and leaned back against the building with a sigh. Ziva could see the blood on the right sleeve of his shirt and the left leg of his pants. "And you?"

"Right bicep and a through and through in my left calf," Xander replied quietly. "Damn, and I liked these pants too."

"They look just like every other pair you own," Ziva observed.

"True, but some are just more comfortable than others," Xander said. "We really should be moving," he noted.

"I believe I will let them find us," Ziva said. "I do not believe that I could move right now." She looked over at Xander, "Is your leg still bleeding?"

"A trickle," he said. "It must have missed all the important stuff."

"I would suppose," Ziva said. She paused, "Thank you for coming for me."

"Well, now you know how I got that damned nick-name," Xander replied lightly.

Ziva nodded at this, understanding exactly what he meant. She leaned back against Xander's shoulder and let herself relax, and waited for Gibbs to find them.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

Tony had checked out the rest of the roof since he was up there anyway. He'd taken a minute or two to block the entrance so he wouldn't have to worry about any more party crashers. He'd taken a bit longer to finish throwing up after he stumbled across what was left of the gunman that Harris had shot. Everything was secure on the roof and it was clear that things were finishing up so he made sure that he had Harris' clips and scrambled down the fire escape to wait for Gibbs and McGee; he didn't have to wait long.

"What the hell happened DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked as soon as he saw Tony.

"A couple of locals went into the alley behind the building, just walking right out in the open when a guy on the roof opened up on them. One guy was killed immediately and the other was down and Ziva charged in and dragged the guy into the shelter of a dumpster. She probably would have been okay except a second guy got out on the roof and started moving to line up a shot. Me and Harris were working to discourage him from that but it would have just been a matter of time, so Harris came up with a plan."

"Why don't I like the sound of this?" Gibbs asked.

"Probably because it was crazy," Tony replied lightly. "I would go up on the roof and distract the shooters while Harris got a big sheet of metal and carry it in like a shield, collect Ziva and the cop and walk back out."

"You're kidding, right?" Tim asked.

"Nope," Tony replied simply. I was involved in a running gunfight; which, by the way, I never want to do again. I got one of the shooters; he fell off the roof after I put a few in his chest. And I guess Harris got the other once he got back to safety."

"You guess, didn't you see it?"

"No, I just heard that cannon of his go off and later I found what's left of the shooter. Ducky's gonna have to use a sponge to clean that guy up." They'd been walking down the side of the building as they'd been talking. The story ended with the three of them standing in front of Xander, Ziva and the cop.

"Harris, David," Gibbs barked out. Ziva sat up, blinking a bit but Harris didn't seem to move.

"Harris," Gibbs repeated.

"Yes sir," Xander replied without opening his eye or moving one unnecessary muscle.

"What the hell is going on?"

"Well, Ziva needs to be stitched up. Me and officer what's-his-name over there need to get to a hospital, and we figured we'd just wait for you instead of lurching around and trying to find you in all this mess."

Gibbs looked closer at the three people in the shadow of the building and finally saw the blood.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Maria knew that something was wrong as soon as they started out. Abby was quiet, and Abby was never quiet. Ducky was talking about his service in the war, which told her that he was thinking about wounded men and such. She was riding with them in the van, Abby had showed her where to find a pair of coveralls that said NCIS on them so that she could come into the crime scene and not have to wait for her Papa to come to her. "How much longer, Doctor?" she asked quietly.

"About two minutes or so my dear," Ducky replied. "Jethro told me to come down the side of the building in question, that it would be quicker that way." There was silence for a minute or two as Ducky navigated the streets, but Maria's attention was caught by his murmured, "Oh my."

As soon as the van stopped, Maria was out the door like a shot. It took a second or two for her to take in the scene that she'd sprung into the middle of. Mr. Gibbs was there, looking like he wanted to kill something as a fat man in a blue uniform shouted in his face. Tony looked like he wanted to beat the policeman and Tim was over by the wall where Maria saw Ziva and her Papa. Even as she hurried over to his side, Maria listened to the man shout at Gibbs.

"We went in totally unprepared for what was there; and it was your man's information that we relied on."

"That's crap," Gibbs replied quietly. "You didn't take the time to prepare because you wanted to make a splash before the weekend news cycle. So you all went in half cocked and got burned because of it. This was your screw up, not ours." Gibbs waved his arm at Xander, "and if you had any sense of honor you'd be thanking him and Ziva for risking their lives to pull your man to safety instead of trying to use him as a scapegoat." Gibbs then took a half step forward and got right in the man's face, "So, do you want us to process the scene or do we have enough free time to talk to the press?"

Maria heard this, heard the threat in Gibbs voice and knew that the other man would back down, but right now her focus was on her Papa. "How are you Papa Xander," she asked.

"I'm fine Maria, just a couple of new scars to add to the collection, that's all."

"Then why do you need a hospital?" Her tone of voice was brisk and businesslike but Xander could tell that she was scared.

"I need to have one of my wounds cleaned properly before they stitch it up," he replied honestly. "Otherwise I'd just have Ducky patch me up and I'd be on my way."

Reassured, Maria looked around and then asked, "So what foolish thing did you do this time?"

Xander was going to just give the bare bones of the story, and incidentally minimize his part in things, but Tony had heard her question and told the tale in his own dramatic style.

The silence after he finished was broken by a feminine shout of, "You let them shoot at you?" followed by the sound of a smack.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

Ziva was in the process of getting stitched up by Ducky when the ambulance finally arrived. Xander got up, leaning heavily on Maria, only to be nearly knocked down again by an enthusiastic Abby.

"Thank you, Thank you, Thank you," she said over and over at a Willow like pace.

"Uhhh, Abby," Xander said carefully. "We don't hug."

"We do now," she said her head on Xander's chest, listening to his heart beating.

"Why?"

"Because you saved my Hebrew ninja," Abby replied, pulling her head back so she could look Xander in the eye.

Xander couldn't help it, Abby's cute sincerity as well as referring to Ziva as a Hebrew Ninja, it caused a smile to curl his lips. "You're welcome," he murmured and kissed her head. "Now if you will excuse me young miss, my chariot awaits," he said in a grandiose voice as he staggered towards the ambulance. Maria was right there, making sure he didn't fall and she helped her father into the back, and then climbed in after him. The young policeman was already in. The doors closed and the NCIS team watched as the ambulance sped off. When it was finally out of sight, they went back to work.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

For Xander, it was just another hospital visit; like many he'd done before. Maria was uncharacteristically quiet and that had Xander curious. They were alone in the exam room after the doctor had cleaned the hole in his calf; he was waiting to stitch everything up when Xander turned to his daughter. "So what's the what?"

"What do you mean, Papa?"

"I mean, what is it that's bugging you? It's not the wound, you were fine as soon as you realized it wasn't bad, and it wasn't me taking risks, you've been fine with that for years; no, there's something else on your mind, and I'm wanting to know what it is."

Maria looked down, away from her father's gaze and took a deep breath. "There is something I wish to do, something that I feel pulled towards and yet . . . ."

"And yet you feel like I wouldn't approve or Giles wouldn't approve?"

"I am not sure that I approve, Papa, but it still something that I feel I must do."

"So what is it? Share it with me and maybe things will clear up."

"Very well," she said resignedly. "I wish to officially become a citizen of the United States."

"Well, I understand that that's a big step, but I don't see the dire involved."

"That is only the first step," Maria replied. "Once I am a citizen, I wish to apply to the United States Military Academy at West Point," she said in a rush.

Xander was absolutely flummoxed, in a million years he wouldn't have expected Maria to come up with this course of action. The question now was; how to respond? He didn't want to out and out shoot her down, he believed too much in letting people choose their own course to do that. At the same time, the thought of letting the Army get its hands on a slayer, most especially his daughter; was simply too horrible to contemplate. He saw her looking at him with a mixture of hope and fear on her face. "Why do you want to do this?" he finally asked.

"Because there is so much to learn, Papa," she replied immediately. "How many times have your soldier memories saved lives and won fights," she asked rhetorically. "How much better would operations be if we actually had someone formally trained in logistics and organization and tactics and strategy?" she continued excitedly. "I could learn all those things and the entire council, all of the slayers, would benefit."

"But why here and not Sandhurst?" Xander countered. "At least some of the military people in England are familiar with the council and could make sure nothing . . . . unusual occurred."

Here Maria stood up and paced, Xander knew that this was not a good sign. "Because as an African woman; I would be almost entirely isolated if I were at Sandhurst, there would be few blacks and even fewer women. At West Point, there would be many more cadets like me, and to be honest Papa, I do not know if I would succeed if I were as isolated as I would be at Sandhurst." This last was said with her head down.

"Maria," Xander said gently, "You would succeed no matter where you were or what you were doing." He sighed, closed his eye and bit the bullet. He could push for a certain course of action, but ultimately he had to let Maria choose her own path. If she felt that this was it, who was he to tell her no. He'd miss her, and he still wasn't sure about the whole thing, but it was her life. "You'll have to be real careful when you're there. You'll have to control your strength and speed," he paused, "and especially your temper."

Maria froze, and incredulous look on her face, there was no way she had just heard what she'd just heard. "You would let me go?"

"Of course," he replied. "It's your life kiddo; I'm just here for advice and money." Apparently this was the right thing to say because suddenly he daughter was in his arms and crying tears of joy.

She pulled back just a bit, her face radiant; "Thank you Papa."

"You're welcome daughter," he replied quietly.

She stood and took his hands, "Let's go home Papa; so that you can rest. Together they made their way towards the duty nurse and the whole checking out process; the daughter supporting her father. There was silence as they moved along and then the question; "And just what do you mean that I should worry about controlling my temper, Papa? What are you saying?"

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Xander was sitting back on his couch, catching up on all of the movies he'd missed for the last ten years. Right now he was watching 'Final Destination 2 & 3', the utter ridiculousness of the stories were doing a good job of keeping his mind off of his throbbing calf. Considering the life that he had led, Xander found the movies hilarious and then he reminisced, imagining what Anya would have had to say about the various deaths and how she would critique the heroes in her so very Anya way. He was a bit lost in the past when someone clearing their throat pulled him back to the here and now. "What's up Maria, aside from you that is?"

"Something has been bothering me, and I finally decided to ask you about it."

"What is it?" Xander asked, pausing the movie. His daughter walked over, she looked confused and unsure, which honestly surprised him. After the whole Army discussion they'd had, he couldn't think of anything dire enough to keep a slayer from her sleep.

"Why do you not like Abby?" she asked, sitting on the ottoman across from Xander.

Xander could honestly say that this was a question that he'd not expected. He sat back for a second and gathered his thoughts. "I suppose it's the whole Goth thing," he said finally. "Not the clothes or style or tattoos or whatever, not the trappings of the lifestyle, but the whole romanticizing death that's at the heart of it that bugs me." Here he leaned forward, "You and I have both seen too much death to ever have such romantic notions about it. Too often it's simply brutal and pointless and only serves to illustrate how cheap some people hold human life to be." He sat back and sighed. "I want to tell her to wake up and face how the world really is. How nasty and utterly unromantic death really is. Honestly it surprises me that she can function in the job she does, where she faces the cold realities of death every day."

Marie's face softened as she listened to her father, she looked almost sad as he finished. "Don't you understand, Papa?" she asked. "That is how she functions in her job. Her greatest fear is loss and abandonment and so she chooses to surround herself with a romanticized version of death in an attempt to lessen its impact; because she knows that it is coming." Here she leaned forward, "You saw how she was today, when there was the possibility that some of you had been killed, she was distraught almost to the point that she couldn't function until she found out that everyone was going to live." Her voice lowered but the intensity level picked up, "Abby romanticizes death because the reality of it is just too scary for her to willingly face."

Xander sat back and considered what his daughter had just told him; it made a lot of sense. "I'd never thought of it that way," he finally admitted.

"Maybe you should," Maria replied. "I'm not saying that you should become her best friend, but you may want to lighten up around her Papa."

"No guarantees kiddo," he replied lightly. "Now get some sleep, it's been a long day."

"Yes Papa," she replied as she stood and headed out of the room.

"Hey, Maria," Xander called out.

"Yes Papa."

"How did you get to be so smart?"

"I had some good teachers," she replied instantly. Then a smile graced her lips, "present company included. Sleep well Papa," she murmured, finally leaving the room.

Xander sat back on the couch, the movie forgotten as he thought about what his daughter had said.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The next day had been a long one, mostly involving the filling out of reports, ballistics tests and the rest of the bureaucratic nightmare that occurred whenever anyone fired their gun. Abby had determined that the gunman Tony had bagged had been the one who had shot the Marine, so that case was being wrapped up. As for Xander, his leg was throbbing a bit, but a couple of Motrin kept things manageable. The rubber crutch that had been leaning against his desk when he'd arrived at work was a nice touch, as was the medal that had been there after lunch, announcing that he was a recipient of the purple target award. The medal itself was a target in purple with the words "Shoot Me" on the ribbon. Xander had figure that Tim was the one responsible for it, and decided that a little payback was due.

When Maria called him right after lunch and let him know that she was going out that night with Abby and Tim, Xander realized that payback time was right now. He made a suggestion to Maria and then just sat back and watched. Soon Tim's phone rang, he initially looked happy, but his face became more and more resigned as the conversation continued. Finally he hung up the phone with a sigh. About five thirty or so, he left without a word.

"Where'd McProbie go?" Tony asked, but everyone just shrugged their shoulders so he went back to work. About an hour later, Tony got his answer as Tim walked in decked out in his full Goth regalia, complete with sparkly makeup.

"What the heck McGoth?" Tony almost crowed.

Tim briefly shot a dirty look at Xander as he said, "Maria and Abby decided that they wanted to go to one of Abby's clubs and that they needed me along."

"You could have said no," Ziva told him.

Tim didn't bother to reply verbally to that one, his glare alone said that you'd have to be insane to say 'no' to two beautiful women. Further conversation was disrupted by the arrival of the elevator and Abby's machine gun babble. Maria just stood back and quietly took pictures of Goth McGee and smiled at the antics of her new friends. Meanwhile, Abby was fussing over Tim, adding a few accessories to get his look just right, at least according to her. As for Tim, the look on his face would have been appropriate for a man on his way to the gallows.

As for Xander, he took a quick look at his daughter and decided not to think about all the skin that was being revealed. He then realized that Tim was not the only guy here getting played and decided to get a little payback on Maria as well. "Don't you have a purse, Maria?"

"No Papa, I didn't have one that went with this outfit."

"So, do you have your cell phone?"

"No, Papa."

"That's okay," Xander replied grandly as he stood up. "I know I've got a spare in here somewhere." He started rooting through his desk; the first thing he pulled out was his shotgun which made a really loud thump when it hit the top of the desk. More items of mayhem and destruction followed, forming a glittering pile of death on Xander's desk. He smiled to himself as Maria watched in both embarrassment and anger and Tim just got paler, if that was possible. "Finally," he said, pulling out a small phone on a lanyard. He gave his daughter a quick once over, "Well I'm sure you'll find somewhere to stash it. He handed her the phone, eye twinkling with mirth. "Have fun kids," he said and began putting everything back in his desk. The three left, two of whom were swearing vengeance against one Alexander Harris under their breaths, while the third was doing her best not to laugh.

"That was a bit cold there to Mr. Sparkle," Tony observed.

"I'm just making sure that he thinks with the right head when it comes to Maria," Xander replied without looking up. Finally, everything was put away and Xander glanced at the clock and then at his colleagues. 'What the heck', he thought, 'time to stop spinning my wheels.'

"Since the kids are out doing their own thing, would you like to grab some dinner Ms. David?" he asked Ziva, holding his hand out to her.

Xander could see her thinking it over, then a smile lit her face and she replied, "I would love to Mr. Harris." She came around her desk and the two of them headed for the elevator. As they left, Tony smiled to himself, a prop crutch and a fake medal and he had Harris tormenting McGee for him; sometimes subtle was best.


	18. It Is Possible pt 1

It Is Possible pt. 1

It was the Sunday after Thanksgiving and Ziva was laughing at a joke her dinner companion had just told. She had actually found herself laughing more these days and it felt good. Ever since the night that McGee and Abby had gone clubbing with his daughter, she had had dinner with Xander Harris two or three times a week. They were pleasant, low key, good food/good company types of evenings where work could be forgotten and Ziva had come to enjoy them quite a bit.

She found Xander Harris to be quite surprising in many ways. She knew that he was brave, but the level of trust that he had in others amazed her. Only after everything was over in the alley did Ziva realize the level of trust that he had placed in Tony. To risk not only his own life but the lives of two other people on the belief that Tony would occupy one of the gunmen astounded her. Ziva had done her best to rely on only herself and had only come to trust the other members of her team after years of working together. Harris had this level of trust in his teammates after two months. It was something Ziva could not imagine. He gave the impression of the isolated American, and yet he had traveled and seen more in his thirty years than most people will in their lifetimes.

He was also chivalrous, which was something else that Ziva hadn't expected. He held doors for her and waited to sit until she had, all of those little courtesies that seemed to have disappeared from today's society. He never corrected her or made her feel silly when she misspoke or mangled her attempts at slang. In many ways it was as if he were from another time.

To be sure, there were mysteries about him, and they did trouble her on occasion. There was the obvious question about the incident her father was interested in, but there were many more beyond that. What had happened to his eye? What was that whole business about his nick-name? What did the group he worked for really do? And was she imagining things when she'd seen his eye glow green? They multitude of questions around him helped Ziva to keep her distance. The problem was, that as she spent more time with him, the answers to those questions seemed less and less important to her.

"So you and your friend tracked the animal down?" They had met in a little restaurant called the "Founding Fathers" which was near the FBI building. They were both dressed casually, which meant jeans and a blouse for her and flannel over cargo pants for him.

"Yeah, Steve and I tracked the thing to this little thicket when it exploded out of there and started chasing us instead of us chasing it." He took a sip of ginger ale and continued. "Well, we ran like hell and climbed under the land rover so that we could regroup and shoot the darn thing with the tranquilizers. We were getting ready to do that as it ran up, but then the idiot driver panicked and took off, leaving us laying there wide open."

Ziva laughed again, "So what did you do?"

"Well," Xander sighed, "we didn't have much choice so I stood up . . . . . and threw my lunch at it to try and slow the darned thing down."

Ziva's laughter pealed out, as Xander gave a little half smile. "Did you all get it?" she finally asked after calming down.

"Yeah, Steve got the thing with the tranq gun but the damned thing got my last pack of Twinkies and those are hard to come by in Botswana."

She smiled again, "Two hardened veterans running from a wild pig."

"Don't make fun missy," Xander replied with mock severity. "The wild pigs scare me more than the lions."

"Really?" she asked when she realized he wasn't making a joke.

"Yeah, those things are totally unpredictable and then don't back off from anything," he replied sincerely. Then he leaned forward, "So what did you do over the holiday?"

"Not much," she replied. "I had dinner with Gibbs and his father on Thursday. Tony, Abby and Ducky were there as well. Other than that, it was quiet so I read and got some of my Hanukkah shopping done." She looked at him quizzically, "And your holiday?"

FLASHBACK

Xander really didn't care for Great Britain. He didn't like the weather, or the food, or the way they drove on the wrong side of the road and especially the superiority complex the whole country seemed to have. That said; there were so many people here that he cared about who lived here that it was a bullet he was willing to bite. Their flight landed about noon on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving and he and Maria were making their way out of the baggage claim at Edinburgh Airport when Maria gave an ear piercing squeal, dropped her bag and ran into the arms of another girl who also happened to be squealing. He immediately recognized Ahmalla, a slayer from Egypt who had known Maria almost as long as Xander had. Seeing them together, he just smiled as he set his bag down and waited for the two friends to wind down so that they could get on the road. It took about ten minutes and one rather shrill whistle from Xander to get the bags into the car and be on their way. As the two girls chattered away in the front, Xander was content to just sit in the back and watch his daughter be a girl for once and not some mystical warrior with a destiny to die young.

Xander was just barely inside the door when he was hit by a tiny blond who proceeded to try and hug him into submission. "Easy on the goods there Buffy," he rasped out.

"What's the matter?" Buffy immediately asked, backing off.

"Papa managed to get shot again," Maria said in passing.

"What?" Buffy shouted, turning back to Xander for answers.

"Honestly, I'm surprised Maria noticed, what with her new boyfriend and all," Xander replied with a smirk.

Now it was funny. Maria was giving him a level one 'Death Glare' while Buffy was almost turning circles, her desire to chew out Xander for getting shot yet again, warring with her desire to chew out Maria for not dishing on the new guy in her life. Ultimately she rounded on Xander. "So what happened?"

"A team-mate was pinned down while trying to rescue a cop and I went in and got them out," he replied simply.

"By making himself a target," Maria snarked.

"You wanted them to shoot at you?" Buffy shouted.

Xander sighed as he realized that there was no way he was getting out of this one. "Come on up and help me unpack and I'll give you the whole story," he said. Buffy just glared skeptically so he continued; "The whole story, I promise."

"It better be," she muttered darkly as the two of them headed for Xander's room. "And don't think I've forgotten about you Missy," Buffy shouted over her shoulder at Maria. "We're gonna have a talk about things that you should share with the Senior Slayer."

In Xander's room they talked and he did indeed share the whole story. Buffy's mental eyebrows went up at the way he talked about Ziva and she resolved to ask Maria if there was anything there. Mostly it was just two friends catching up on their lives and there was lots of laughter as stories were told.

Buffy did talk to Maria and reluctantly approved of McGee as a boyfriend with the understanding that the man would be dog chow if he hurt Maria in any way. Figuring that was the best she was going to get, Maria left it at that. Dawn arrived the next day and the temperature in the castle seemed to drop, the way it always did when Xander and Dawn were in close proximity, but the drop wasn't as significant as it usually was and there were even unconfirmed reports that the two of them had even spoken cordially to each other.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

It was the Friday after Thanksgiving when he spoke to Giles. "Maria wants to do what?" Giles asked, sure that he had misheard somehow.

"She wants to go to West Point," Xander answered.

"And why pray tell does she want that?"

"Because she feels that it will make her a better slayer and that ultimately it will help the Council as a whole." Here he leaned forward. "The Council was originally designed to support a single slayer and they did fine with that, well at least for most of the time they did. But now that there are so many Slayers out there that we've got to worry about things that the Council has never had to worry about before; Logistics, Group Tactics, Strategic Planning and a bunch more. We've got military retirees and advisors to help out with these but I've honestly got to say that it amazes me that the lack of experience in these areas hasn't bit us on the ass yet. So Maria figured that if she were trained in these areas it would provide a knowledge pool for the Council to utilize so we're better prepared when we need expertise in those areas quickly." Here Xander almost looked bashful. "I think that her long term goal is to have most of the Slayer's militarily trained and she's using herself as a Guinea Pig, but that's just a guess."

Giles just sat back, completely flummoxed. He had never really considered this as a possible solution to the Council's issues with the topics that Xander had raised. And while the idea of militarily trained slayers had great merit, there was also tremendous risk. "Do you think she'll be able to maintain her secret for the four years at the Academy?" he finally asked.

"Honestly, no," Xander replied. "But we do know that the US Military already knows about Slayers, so the risks of being outed aren't as great as they appear. And if things head south," Xander grimaced, "not to sound callous because it is my daughter's life we're talking about, but that's just one slayer out of many so the Council's exposure is limited." He looked at Giles, "I'm honestly not sure if the risk is worth the reward, but Maria's convince that it is and you know how she gets when she's sure that she's right."

"She gets very much like her father," Giles shot back with a grin. "Do you think she'll have any trouble getting in?"

"I'm not sure, but I wouldn't think so," Xander replied. "The only thing that kind of worries me is her age, she'd probably be older than everyone in her class and that might cause some friction."

"True," Giles replied. "But it may also allow her to council her classmates more effectively due to her age and experiences and thus create a niche for her that she is familiar with."

"True," Xander said, relaxing back in his chair. He was glad that Giles was taking this as well as he was, Xander had no wish to be debating Ripper on the subject. "Anything else to discuss while we're still in business mode?"

"Actually there was one thing," Giles said, a light coming to his eyes. "Did you really stumble across a copy of De Vermis Mysteriis?"

"Yeah, in Chicago of all places," Xander replied. He then told Giles the entire story of the barbeque fork murders.

"So where is the book now," Giles asked, doing his best not to drool.

"NCIS custody," Xander answered. "You want me to pick it up."

"Certainly," Giles said it what passed as his 'Duh' tone of voice.

"What's it worth to you?" Xander asked with a smirk. "I mean I could get thrown in prison if I'm caught filching property from the US Government."

Giles sat back quickly, "Are you attempting to extort money and or favors from your employer?"

"Absolutely," Xander replied. "You were practically drooling when you were talking about the book Giles, so I decided that a bit of negotiation was called for."

"And what is it you want you pillock?"

Xander leaned forward again. "Some sort of instant transport device for Maria, that is if she gets in to West Point; so if she's in danger she can get the hell out of wherever she is."

"Done," Giles said immediately. He had been thinking along those lines himself.

"And," Xander continued as Giles groaned. "Two uninterrupted weeks at the house on Oahu this coming October."

Giles' eyes got wide; the Oahu house was a retreat for those Slayers and Watchers who were getting a bit burned out. While it was true that there were quite a few such places in the world, that one was the most popular, especially with the Slayers. When he'd asked Buffy why that was she'd just gone red and stammered about the scenery, which told Giles that the real reason was something he was better off not knowing. And two uninterrupted weeks was a huge stretch of time, however, to get his hands on such a rare work . . . . . . "Done," he said finally.

Xander just smiled and reached into the pack that was leaning against his chair and pulled out the book. He set it lightly on Giles desk.

"You bastard," the Englishman spluttered, unable to believe that Xander had pulled that over on him. "You lied to me."

"No I didn't Giles," Xander said with false sanctimony. "I said it was in NCIS custody, and since I am currently a member of NCIS what I told you was entirely true, you simply assumed."

"Yes, well," Giles muttered darkly, but the presence of the book mollified him greatly. "How did you pull it off?"

"I had the resident Wicca at DC House put a glamour on some book that was roughly the same size and everything. One book goes in, another book comes out and only you and I are the wiser."

Giles nodded absently at the explanation, as he started flipping through the pages. Realizing that any meaningful conversation was at an end, Xander got up and left. It took Giles forty five minutes to realize that he was alone.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

Maria grabbed Xander and started dancing around the room when he told her that Giles was alright with her wanting to go to West Point. Fortunately he stopped her before she pulled any of his stitches.

All too soon it was Saturday morning and he was packing what little he'd brought; the flight left at two in the afternoon. He was just double checking under the bed when a voice behind him said, "Xander."

Xander was proud of the fact that he didn't bash his head on the side rails as he pulled his head out from underneath and turned around. Dawn Summers was standing in his doorway, he didn't know if this was a good or bad thing, but he was leaning towards bad based on history. "Yeah Dawn," he replied warily.

"Could we . . . . talk?" she asked quietly.

"That depends," Xander replied as he stood up. "Are we talking yet another recitation of Xander's many failures, flaws and shortcomings just without all the fun yelling or are you wanting to have an actual conversation." Actually, Xander was kinda proud how un-bitchy it sounded; although he did acknowledge that there was some bitchiness there.

Dawn flinched a bit; Xander's question wasn't completely without merit. "Just talk," she said.

"Sure," he said quickly and sat heavily on one corner of the bed.

Dawn took her time and crossed to a chair that was within the range of Xander's vision from where he currently was and sat down. She sat there for a few seconds, it was clear that she was trying to figure out where to start. Finally she just blurted out, "It hurt so much when you didn't come back to Cleveland with me."

"Probably as much as it hurt when you refused to come to Africa with me," he replied and then winced; he hadn't meant to put it so bluntly. "Sorry, that kind of slipped out." He took a deep breath and mentally noted that growing up sucked almost as much as being a kid; "But you were probably right to say no."

She looked at him, startled to hear him say anything like that. Seeing the surprise on her face, he continued. "You wanted to be accepted on your own merits, not to be Buffy's sister or Xander's girlfriend and I forgot that when I asked you to come back to Africa with me."

"I should never have been all ultimatumy when I asked you to leave Africa and come to Cleveland with me." She looked down, "It was a test to see if you cared more about me than you did being a watcher, at least that's what I wanted it to be. I didn't understand until later how much I'd asked you to give up."

"What happened," Xander asked with a ghost of a smile. He better than most knew how stubborn Dawn could be and it must have taken something extraordinary to have moved her out of her mental rut.

"Andrew, believe it or not," Dawn replied. "He was over with some kind of a security upgrade and I said something about you, I don't even remember what; and all the sudden he's screaming at me about what a shallow idiotic bitch I am, then he smacked me and stormed out." She saw Xander's surprise, "Yeah, it freaked me out too; but it also got me thinking for the first time in a long time. Honestly I doubt that anything less dramatic would have." She sighed again and made a thorough study of the carpet in Xander's room; "What made it worse was that he was right." She smiled, "I even told him that."

"And afterwards," Xander asked, he knew that smile.

"I superglued his sheets together so he was jumping around the next morning like a potato sack racer." Her grin got positively wicked, "Being right doesn't get you a free pass."

"Indeed," Xander replied, doing an eerily exact imitation of Teal'c from the show SG-1; which caused Dawn to crack up.

"So are we good?" Dawn asked as soon as she stopped laughing.

"No," Xander replied, "but we're headed in the right direction. There were too many things said and too much pain for it to all go away quickly."

"That's good," Dawn sighed. "I was afraid you hated me."

"Never," Xander said. He knelt in front of her and took her hands. "You saved me Dawn," he said with total sincerity. "After Faith . . . . ." he cleared his throat. "When I was at my lowest, you pulled me out of my well of despair and you helped me learn to live again. Don't ever doubt that," Xander said emphatically. "If it wasn't for you I'd be dead or worse and any kind of a relationship would be impossible. So thank you for that," he concluded.

"You're welcome," Dawn replied quietly. Mentally her eyebrows had raised when Xander had talked about a relationship, maybe the hints that Maria was dropping weren't all smoke and mirrors. Still; the possibility that Xander might have found someone hurt, after all she'd hoped that this reconciliation might lead to something because when the two of them had been together, they'd been very good; but it looked like there may be someone else. She recalled Buffy's words about how some things just weren't meant to be and they still rankled, but Dawn at least acknowledged the fundamental truth of them. She leaned forward and they briefly hugged, then they chatted about inconsequential things as he finished packing.

END FLASHBACK

"Wasn't too bad, got one over on my boss so I'll be spending two weeks in Hawaii next October and I reconciled with an ex of mine. Those were the highlights; the rest was just family stuff." He took another sip of his ginger ale and caught sight of a familiar car. "Ziva," he said quietly.

"Yes," she replied, there was an odd look in his eye. The mention of reconciling with an ex had her hackles up and she was surprised at that. She knew that there was a bit of attraction between the two of them but until he had mentioned another woman, Ziva hadn't realized just how much was there.

"At your seven O'clock; is that DiNozzo's car?"

Ziva twisted the napkin holder so that she could use it's reflective surface to see where Xander had indicated, and sure enough, there was Tony's car. In fact, she caught sight of Tony himself slumped down in the front seat. "Yes it is," she said with some exasperation. Tony would be a dead man tomorrow.

"Anything I need to know about?" Xander asked.

Ziva thought about her relationship with Tony and how to communicate that to the man she was with. "It is a bit complicated, but nothing to worry about."

"Could you not say anything to him about it please?" Xander asked. "I want him to be surprised if he does it again." The thought of DiNozzo and Ziva together seemed to stoke a flame in Xander. He had known that he was attracted to Ziva, but he was surprised at just how much. That realization led to another one; simply put, if their relationship was going to go anywhere, he needed to verify what he suspected; that her father had been the one who had hired the warlord in Gabon, the one who had ultimately killed Faith. He needed to get all of his facts together before he could talk to Ziva and see if this was going anywhere. Meanwhile, there was something else on his mind. "Could I ask you a favor?"

"What is it?" Ziva asked quickly.

"Maria is gonna be taking her citizenship exam soon and is kind of freaking out about it. I know you took it fairly recently so I was hoping you could talk to her, kind of in a big sister way and settle her nerves about the whole thing."

"Why does she want to become a United States Citizen?" Ziva asked. She realized that the question was a bit personal, but she was understandably curious.

"She wants to go to West Point, and you've got to be a citizen to do that."

Ziva desperately wanted to know why the girl wanted to go to a Military Academy, but knew that asking that question would be just too intrusive. So she backed off a bit and replied, "Do you know when she will be taking her exam?"

"Sometime next week is all I know," Xander replied. "She didn't want me to know cause she's afraid I'll make a big deal of it and that's more pressure than she needs.

"I would be glad to help," Ziva said.

"Thanks," Xander said simply and the talk turned back to lighter matters.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"I hate Monday mornings," Xander noted as he sat down, rubbing his eye.

"I feel like I'm still in a turkey coma," DiNozzo chimed in.

"Didn't the ride in wake you up?" Tim wanted to know. "Cold air in your face usually does a pretty good job of waking you up."

"There's only so much jet lag that cold air can overcome, Tim," Xander replied. A silence that was only broken by the tapping of keys descended over the bullpen as the four agents dealt with the ever present paperwork. Even the sound of the elevator arriving at their floor failed to rouse anyone sufficiently.

"Get your gear," Gibbs barked at his sleepy agents.

"You're one of those crazy people who have a conniption fit if they're not out of bed by 7, aren't you Gibbs?" Xander asked as he gathered his equipment.

"Six thirty, actually," Gibbs replied with a smirk and headed for the elevator.

"Where are we off to boss," Tony asked.

"The Pentagon, DiNozzo."

"The Pentagon?" Tim echoed.

"Yes McGee, the Pentagon. I'm sure you've seen it, big building; four walls with a spare. You know, the architectural monument to Murphy's Law," Gibbs snarked.

"It's just not somewhere we usually go, is all," McGee explained.

"What's the deal, boss?" Tony asked.

"Admiral died of an apparent heart attack at his desk," Gibbs replied. "They just want us to go over everything and make sure."

"That's why we get the big bucks," Xander quipped and Ziva smacked him in the back of the head.

"Just for that, I'm driving," he said and snatched the keys out of her hands. Only to have them snatched by Gibbs who just stood there with a little half grin and dared Xander to say anything.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

The Pentagon was a lot different than Xander had expected. He'd expected lots of scowling guys with guns and rooms marked 'Top Secret' and those big table maps with little troop markers on them. But the reality was that it was just an office building where everyone wore uniforms instead of suits. The team was escorted up to the office of an Admiral Charles Marcum. At forty eight, he was a little young to be an Admiral and also a little young to be having a fatal heart attack. The team swarmed the office, taking pictures and samples.

Xander was dusting for fingerprints on the door jamb when something tickled his nose. There was a strange odor in the office and he couldn't quite place it. Off hand, he thought that it smelled like the Magic Box had when Anya had been restocking the herbs. He had moved from the door to the desk, the smell was stronger here, but he still couldn't pinpoint it. He noted that Gibbs, Ziva and Tony were huddled in conversation while Tim was talking to the two aids in the outer office. Finally the huddle broke and Gibbs called out, "Get everyone in here McGee."

The office staff walked in and Gibbs just stood there glaring for a moment or two. Finally he asked, "Who cleaned and straightened him up?"

"Sir?" the senior aid, a captain asked.

"I want to know who moved the body, who contaminated the crime scene and what that person did."

The staff members just looked at each other, no words were spoken conversations occurred. Xander, who was standing behind the group, caught the odor again. He quickly circulated through the office staff and quickly isolated the source to a young Ensign. "She's the one, Gibbs," Xander said.

"You sure?" Gibbs asked and Xander just nodded. Gibbs noted the young woman's eyes closed and her shoulders slumped, it appeared that Harris was right.

"McGee, get the rest of their statements," Gibbs ordered. As the staff left, a few with backward glances at the young Ensign, Gibbs moved until he was right in front of the young woman. "So what gives Ensign . . . ."

"Marcum, sir; Ensign Barbara Marcum. The Admiral was my father."

Gibbs closed his eyes briefly. Her actions were understandable, stupid but understandable.

"Alright Ensign, you're coming down to NCIS and we're going to go over everything you did. Ziva, you're with me; the rest of you bag and tag everything and ride back in with Ducky.

There were three versions of "Okay Boss" as Gibbs left the office. The three of them finished processing the office and were just wrapping up when Ducky and Jimmy Palmer arrived. They left things to the ME and moved out into the outer office. "So what do you think, Probie?" Tony asked Xander.

"I think there's a lot more going on here than a heart attack," Xander replied.

"What do you mean?" Tim asked.

"Something just doesn't smell right," Xander replied with a grin.


	19. It Is Possible pt 2

It Is Possible pt. 2

"So what happened Ensign?" Gibbs asked; his voice gentle but firm.

"I had an appointment with the Admiral, but when David buzzed him there was no reply."

"By David, you mean Lt. Carlson?"

"Yes," the Ensign replied. "I went in anyway and found him," the young woman's eyes got watery. "His eyes were closed and he was slumped in his chair. I immediately knew that something was wrong because he never slumped, he used to get on me and my brother about it when we did. So I walk around the desk and I see . . . . . ."

Gibbs stifled a groan of exasperation. The Ensign was crying now and it didn't look like she was gonna stop soon. "What did you see Ensign?" he barked out.

Ensign Marcum's head snapped up and she glared at Gibbs. "He was naked from the waist down with his hands wrapped around his . . . . . ." she faltered, not knowing how to say what she had seen.

"I can guess where his hand was," Gibbs helped the young woman out. "So then what?"

"I pulled his hand off to his side and dressed him, then I called for Lt. Carlson."

"Did you see or touch anything else."

"I turned off his computer."

"Why?"

"What he was watching wasn't what I wanted anyone else to see," she answered primly. "Oh, and I cleaned his hand off with a tissue and threw it in the garbage can."

"Why did you do all that?" Gibbs asked. He figured he knew the reason, but he wanted to hear it from her.

"That was my father Agent Gibbs; what's more, that was my commanding officer. He was an excellent officer and a good father; I didn't want anybody's memory of him to be tainted by being discovered in such an undignified position."

"Was there anything in the office that you found unusual when you went in; some object or some unusual sound or smell?"

"No, everything appeared normal," the Ensign replied. "I checked and the safe was shut and locked as was the Secret drawer in his desk."

Did you do that before or after Lt. Carlson was in the room?"

"After, I only straightened up my father before calling the Lieutenant."

Gibbs stared at the young woman for a moment or two, then slid a legal pad over to her. "Write down exactly what you did and everything you touched. Agent David will be here in a bit to go over your statement; then you're free to go." He got up and moved towards the door, "but stay available in case we have more questions."

"Am I a suspect," she asked.

Gibbs smirked, "Right now we don't even know if there was a crime."

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

Gibbs headed into the bull pen and was glad to see that the others were back from the Pentagon. "Okay, what have we got?" he barked out; "and where's Harris?"

"He's dropping off the evidence with Ducky and Abby, and who we've got is Admiral Charles Marcum," Boss, DiNozzo replied. "Graduated from Annapolis is '86 and started his career at the Pentagon. Actually, except for two deployments in '90 and '94 he's served his whole career there." Gibbs winced at this; the man was a career desk weenie which meant that he was most likely a politician who had risen from not pissing people off rather than good work. "His specialty is logistics and supply to bases outside the US."

"Which means he dealt with contractors and lots of money, look at his finances McGee."

"Got it Boss."

"No real black marks on his record, a couple of bosses he really didn't get along with but other than that his record's clean."

"Check up on the superiors who didn't like him, maybe someone held a grudge."

"So we're treating this like a murder?" Tony asked.

"Until either Abby or Ducky tell us differently, yes."

"Wife's name is Margaret," Ziva chimed in. "They've been married for twenty six years. Two children, William and Barbara; both graduated from Annapolis and both are currently serving. She is one of his aides and William is a Lieutenant based out of Little Creek."

"Navy or Marine?" Gibbs asked.

"Navy," Ziva answered quickly. "Like his father he seems to have an interest in Supply, especially ordinance. One deployment," she continued, "a two year stretch in Okinawa. He is married and they have no children."

"Who's the wife," Gibbs asked.

"Anne Dedham," Xander chimed in. Everyone turned to look, surprised that he'd been able to sneak up on them. "They met on his deployment. Her dad's a Marine Colonel, Eugene 'Stringer' Dedham; spent almost all of his career avoiding the Pentagon like the plague." He turned to Gibbs, "You know the man?"

"By reputation only," Gibbs replied. Then his eyes lasered into Harris, "How did you know who had messed with the body?"

"There was a strange odor on the body, kind of a cut grass kind of smell, but bitter," Xander replied. "She had the same smell on her but a lot lighter." He shrugged his shoulders, "It made sense."

"Fine," he said then turned to the rest of the team. "We're gonna treat this like a homicide until either Ducky or Abby tell us differently. McGee, go over his computer and E-mails, you don't get to be an admiral without pissing people off."

"Look for anything leading to someone who had a grudge, on it Boss," McGee replied.

"DiNozzo, you and I will talk to the Admiral's office staff again, look at the evaluations he filled out, past employees . . . ."

"Trying to find anyone mad enough to kill, I know the drill boss."

"Ziva, you and Xander . . . ."

"Talk to the family and see if there is any animosity there. I understand."

Xander watched everyone start to move and he called out to Ziva for her to head on to the car and that he'd catch up; he had other business right now."

"Hey Tim, you got a second?"

"Not much of one, what's up?"

"I need a favor." Xander replied, pulling out a flash drive. "This is purely personal; it doesn't have anything to do with NCIS."

"Still listening," McGee said.

"There are some E-mails on here, but they're encrypted. I need them decrypted, that's all. I got em from someone I took down, and like I said, it's personal so I didn't want to go to someone at NSWC. You're about the best I've seen so I'm asking you to do this."

"About how long ago were they encrypted?" McGee asked, taking the flash drive.

"Ten years, give or take," Xander replied.

"Give me a couple of days," McGee said.

"Thanks Tim," Xander said, then he turned and hurried towards the garage. He didn't want Ziva to leave without him.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

"What did you need from McGee?" Ziva asked when they were on their way.

"Personal favor, just some computer work," Xander replied. "So we seeing the wife first?"

"She was the closest," Ziva responded.

"How hard do you want to push?" Xander asked.

"Not very, as Gibbs said, we do not know if there really was a murder."

"I can do that." Xander replied quietly while looking at the file they had on the Admiral.

Soon they were pulling up to a very nice house just outside of Falls Church Virginia. As they were getting out of the car, Xander leaned over and asked, "You mind if I take the lead on this one?"

"No," Ziva replied after a bit of thought. "You did an excellent job with Mrs. Armstrong after all, so I will observe." She knocked on the door with a couple of quick raps and stepped back.

The door was soon answered by a willowy, middle aged woman. She was almost six feet tall and her hair was right on the border between brown and red; it was clear that she'd been crying. "May I help you?"

"Margaret Marcum?" Xander asked. When she nodded he continued, "My name is Agent Harris and this is Agent David, we're with NCIS." Here they flashed their credentials, "Could we ask you a few questions?"

"Why, it was a heart attack, wasn't it?" Mrs. Marcum asked, tears welling up in her eyes.

"We're treating it like a homicide until we're proven wrong," Xander replied. "You don't want to assume that it isn't and be wrong because then you've given the killer a head start."

"I understand," she finally replied. "Won't you come in?" she asked, stepping back.

Xander winced a bit at the invitation but followed the older woman deeper into the house. The three of them ended up in a sitting room; one wall made up almost entirely of windows, which looked out over a small patch of woods. Mrs. Marcum sat in an overstuffed leather chair and motioned for Xander and Ziva to do the same. "Now, what can I tell you?"

"We're just asking some background questions right now," Xander said. "I want to emphasize the fact that you aren't a suspect in any way, we're just trying to get a feel for the relationships in your husband's life." Xander looked at the notepad he was carrying. "You two were married for twenty six years?"

"It would have been twenty seven in March," Margaret replied with a hitch in her voice.

"No problems?"

"Every marriage has problems."

"And what were yours?"

Mrs. Marcum looked flustered for a second, "After Barbara went off to Annapolis we went through the whole empty nest thing. My husband had his work to throw himself into but I'd never worked and getting a job just wasn't in the cards with the economy the way it was. I tried volunteering but I just kept getting more and more miserable."

"So what happened?"

"I confronted my husband with how I was feeling and we went to a couple's therapist that was recommended to us through our church. After about four sessions, we were doing better and haven't been back."

"So no extra-curriculars on either of your parts?"

"Not on mine at least, and I don't believe that Charles ever strayed."

"Any personal grudges that you knew about, maybe someone not associated with the Navy?"

"There's a couple that live down the street who keep referring to my family as 'Death Merchants', but they're both professors at Georgetown so I always believed that they were all talk."

"And their name is?"

"The Stapleton's, Jim and Millicent."

"And there's no one that you can think of that might have a grudge against your husband?"

"There's one thing," Margaret began tentatively. "There's a company, Alltech Chemical; they make fire fighting chemicals for the Navy and have since World War II. My husband was talking about canceling their contract."

"Do you know why?"

"He said that the quality had dropped and that there were a couple of deaths that could be tied to them because their chemicals hadn't performed properly. We were getting angry phone calls for a while, but he just laughed it off and said the Navy would take care of it."

"And you had your doubts?"

"A man showed up here once when my husband was at work," Mrs. Marcum paused; "he was quite intense."

"Did he threaten you or your family?"

"No, he was vague and it was just that one time."

"And how long ago was that?"

"Over six months."

There were other questions, but it was soon clear that the meat of the interview was over. Soon Ziva and Xander were in the car and headed for the Son's house. He should be home by the time they got there. This time Ziva ran the show and Xander watched the two. William seemed to be an eerily exact copy of his father and Anne was as cute as a bug; but there were times when she seemed to flinch at the answers her husband gave. Every time she showed distress was when William was talking about his relationship with his father. Xander was quite interested in why that was and would have said something except that it was clear that Ziva had noticed as well. After about forty five minutes, they were on their way back to the Navy Yard. Both were curious to see what everyone else had dug up.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

"So what can you tell me Ducky?" Gibbs asked.

"Surprisingly little Jethro," the old ME replied. "It seems as though the Admiral's heart just went to sleep. There was no trauma to the muscle as you would expect with a traditional heart attack, the bloody thing just stopped working."

"So it was foul play?"

"Well, I can't say for certain, which is frustrating." Ducky ran his hand through his hair. "The heart usually doesn't just stop this way; however, there is precedent for an event like this spontaneously occurring; they are rare, but they do exist." He turned to face Gibbs again. "I've sent blood and other samples to Abby; hopefully she can make more of this than I can."

"Anything unusual at all?"

"Well, there is some slight discoloration of the left hand and the genitalia," Ducky replied.

"Caused by?"

"I have no idea, but come here for a moment," Ducky asked while lifting the dead man's left hand. "Give it a sniff," he said waving the appendage under Gibbs' nose.

Gibbs was a little grossed out, but did as he was asked. At first there was nothing, but on the second sniff he caught it; the odor of freshly cut grass, but with a bitter undertone, just like Harris had described. "Any idea on what's causing the smell."

"No to that either I'm afraid," Ducky grumped. "But it is unusual."

"True enough," Gibbs muttered as he headed out the door.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

"What have ya got for me Abby," Gibbs asked as he burst through the door.

"Nothing, you're too early Gibbs," Abby said with some exasperation. "I'm good but I still need a little time."

"How long?"

"Two hours," Abby said, looking at all the blinking lights and trying to gauge how things were progressing.

"You've got one," Gibbs fired back.

"But . . . ." Abby started to protest.

"Or I'm getting you an assistant," Gibbs said, laying out his ultimate threat.

"Fine," Abby said, then promptly stuck her tongue out when Gibbs was walking away.

"I saw that," he called over his shoulder.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

"So what have we got?" Gibbs asked when he got back to the bull pen.

"This guy is like the stealth admiral," DiNozzo replied. "Everyone I spoke to had nothing but good things to say about the guy and apparently he made his rank without managing to piss anyone off, either above or below him. All of his staff seemed to be honestly sorry that he was dead and were actually pretty broken up about it."

"No one had a grudge?" Gibbs asked, incredulous.

"No one in supply command, no one on his staff, no superior; even SecNav had a good word for the man."

"You questioned the Secretary of the Navy?" Gibbs asked.

"I only asked him if he knew of any animosities that someone might have towards the guy," DiNozzo replied self righteously.

Gibbs rounded on Xander and Ziva with his eyebrow raised.

"The wife seemed to be genuine in her grief, she admitted to a few problems in the marriage but that they had worked though those," Ziva began. "She did bring to light one issue that the Admiral had with a supplier. He was debating on canceling their contract, one that they had held since World War II."

"A government contract can mean really big bucks," DiNozzo chimed in. "Big enough to kill for."

"Which is why we're planning on checking it out," Xander said. "There was also something funny with the son and daughter in law." He shook his head, "a weird vibe, like they were lying but not about what you'd expect. They never mentioned money or anything like that but the daughter in law always flinched when the guy talked about his relationship with his father."

"What do you think it means?" Gibbs asked.

"Off hand boss, I'd say there are issues between father and son, but I've got no idea what they might be. But I'd say Anne Marcum should be first on our re-interview list."

"I hear you; now here's what we're gonna do next . . . . ."

"Uhhh Boss?"

"What is it McGee?"

"I found something here that . . . . . . puts a different spin on things."

"What is it?"

"A series of video files that were encrypted, there's hours of them."

"Put it on the screen."

"Boss, I'm really not sure if . . . ."

"Now McGee."

"You got it boss," and with the tap of a key, the entire office was watching the Admiral engage in some rather energetic relations with a woman in a mask. Several people started to say something, Gibbs included, but they just couldn't manage to get the words out.

"Where did they come up with that position," DiNozzo finally managed to ask after a rather gymnastic maneuver that demonstrated the couple's flexibility.

The sound of Ziva's hand smacking the back of Tony's head was drowned out by Xander answering, "Page 145 of the unabridged Kama Sutra."

Everyone turned and looked at Xander. "How do you know that?" Gibbs asked.

"Do you really want me to answer that question?" Xander shot back, his face a bit red.

"No, not really," Gibbs muttered and turned back to the others. "DiNozzo, you and Ziva lean on the daughter in law, see what issues William had with his father. McGee, you and I are gonna check out the supplier who may have had a grudge." He turned back to Xander with a shit eating grin on his face, "Xander, you take that flash drive down to Abby's lab and see what you can discover from those video files."

"You gotta be kidding me."

"You got a problem with that," Gibbs growled out.

Xander desperately wanted to say yes to that, but he realized that there could indeed be legitimate information buried in all the porn. "Where's the gizmo McGee." Xander saw Gibbs' grin widen just a bit at that answer and he vowed right then and there that Mr. L J Gibbs would be on the receiving end of a serious prank. He grabbed the laptop with a growl of his own and headed down to Abby's domain.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Xander sat with his head in his hands, praying that his head didn't explode. He'd been watching this crap for over ninety minutes and he was still no closer to figuring out who the woman was than when he started. The where was easy enough, the family photos on the dressers made it clear that the Admiral was in his own house. But the woman always had her mask on and it was getting frustrating. As for what they were doing, well in a way it reminded him of his and Anya's early phase where both were willing to try anything once. He'd seen the man being the aggressor, and the woman being the aggressor, he'd seen role play, some light BDSM, spanking and several other kinks, dozens of positions and it all added up to bupkus. The only thing notable was the tentative nature of the two participants, it was as if . . . . . .

Without even being aware of what he was doing, Xander was racing into Abby's lab, needing to find the young woman. "Hey, Abby," he called out.

"What?" an annoyed voice came back.

"Will that facial recognition software you've got work on bodies?"

"What?"

"Can you use it to tell if one body is the same as another, I mean if you can't see the face?"

Abby thought for a moment or two. "I suppose so; I mean weight might vary a bit but there are certain markers, traits and ratios that are always gonna be the same. So you wanna apply that to the movies there and see if it's the same woman or different women?"

"Actually, I want to compare the body in the movies to someone."

"You think you know who it is?"

"I've got a theory," Xander replied.

"Well get me the files while I warm up the software," Abby replied with a grin.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

From the moment they'd walked in the door, Gibbs had wanted to punch the head of Alltech Chemical. Aaron Feldhaus was one of those loud, blustery men who mistake volume for substance when in a disagreement and will talk over you the second you try and make your point. Combine that with the near joy he'd exhibited when told of Marcum's death and Gibbs' attitude became clearly understandable.

"Shouldn't you be trying to make yourself look less guilty?" McGee finally asked once the blowhard had finally stopped gloating.

"Why?" the man bellowed. "I'm not sorry he's gone and I didn't have anything to do with it. I didn't order it, suggest it or even talk about it in front of the guys being laid off because of his cancelling our contract; so why try and lie about how I'm feeling?"

Tim sat back, disgust blazing in his eyes as Gibbs leaned forward. "Anyone under you who might be a bit more . . . proactive?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Feldhaus replied after thinking about it a bit.

"Not even whoever went over to threaten Mrs. Marcum?"

"What?" the businessman roared. "Are you telling me that someone from here went over and harassed em?"

"Threatened, even," Gibbs said quietly

Feldhaus leaned forward even further at this and glared at McGee. "You're the technical weenie, right?"

"I am," McGee replied, a little intimidated by the big man's glare.

"Then I want you to go through the books and personnel files and see who did that so I can fire em myself." He turned back to Gibbs, "I'm a jerk, I know that; but there are certain lines you never cross in business and that's one of em." He sat back in his chair, "go see HR and tell em what you need," he told them.

At least he was a co-operative jerk, Gibbs thought.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

Ziva knew they'd hit pay dirt as soon as Anne Marcum had opened the door. As soon as the young woman had seen Ziva, her eyes had dropped to the floor and she seemed to shrink in on herself. Almost wordlessly she'd retreated back into the house and sat down in a huge overstuffed chair. "How can I help you now?" she had asked.

"When we talked to you and your husband earlier, I believe that he lied to us. Now that he is not here, I would like for you to tell us the truth," Ziva rapped out.

Anne opened her mouth once or twice but nothing had come out so DiNozzo jumped in. "There were problems with his dad, weren't there?"

Anne just nodded, looking miserable. "Right after Barbara went off to the Academy, his folks' marriage hit some rough times. I really didn't notice because we'd just moved here from Okinawa and were newlyweds ourselves. He started to get obsessive about it and I finally told him that they'd work things out, but it really bugged him. Anyway, about a year later, everything seemed to smooth out for them and I never thought any more about it, but Bill just kept worrying it, like it was an itch he just couldn't scratch, you know?" Here both Tony and Ziva nodded, they were familiar with that particular feeling. "And then one day it just changed, you know. Bill became angry, really angry at his dad. He wouldn't say why though, when I asked. He'd just go to the gym and work out."

"Do you get along with your in-laws?" Tony asked.

"Yeah, I think they're great, but I can only see them when Bill's not around. I don't think he's seen his dad in months and whenever he sees his mom, they just end up yelling at each other."

"Did he ever say what the matter was?"

"No, Bill never did."

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

Gibbs and McGee were heading back to the Navy Yard. The good news was that they'd eliminated Alltech Chemical as a possible player in what had happened to Admiral Marcum. It had taken the two of them all of fifteen minutes to figure out who had threatened the family over the loss of the contract; and another five minutes with Gibbs to get the man to confess everything he'd ever done. Also, the books had come up cleaner than clean. McGee could find no evidence of bribes, pay offs or any of the other things you would associate with hiring someone to kill your fellow man. Which was also the bad news, their list of suspects was down by one. Maybe the others had had better luck, McGee hoped

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

"Tell me you've got something," Gibbs growled out as he entered the bull pen.

"We've got something," Abby said, almost bouncing in her eagerness.

"A lot of something," Xander added.

"First of all, someone was trying to blackmail the Admiral."

"Emphasis on trying," Xander added again.

"He got a series of E-mails telling him to stop his affair, which he ignored."

"Why?" Tony asked. "That couldn't get you dismissed but it could keep you from getting promoted."

"Because the woman he was having the 'affair' with was his wife," Abby said with an almost maniacal grin. "Those movies that McGee found were the Admiral and his wife spicing up the old marriage."

"You're sure?"

"Gibbs, now I'm offended," Abby pouted.

"Any clue as to who the blackmailer was?"

"I would guess it was the son," Ziva answered. "Apparently there was friction between him and his father."

Gibbs just nodded at this and asked, "Do we have any reason to think the Admiral was murdered?"

"Still working on that one Gibbs," Abby answered.

"So what can you tell me about that?"

"Well, there were some unusual results from his blood work. I'm trying to pin it down now but it isn't coming easy, which means if it was some sort of agent, it wasn't a usual one," Abby said in Willowesque babble.

"Let me know when you've got something," he muttered and went off to give Leon an end of the day briefing; with a dead admiral, Leon would be catching some heat to get it done quickly so keeping the man up to date was Gibbs' way of keeping him off their back. Abby bolted for her lab and Xander walked up to Ziva, "since the day here is done, you wanna go get some dinner pretty lady?"

"Sure," she replied with a grin, "I'll even let you drive."

Tony watched as the two of them entered the elevator. As soon as the door was closed he turned to say something to McGee, but Tim beat him to the punch. "Stay out of it unless you want to be in between those two if things go south."

"No thanks," Tony replied easily; "My major medical isn't that good." He thought for a moment and then turned back to Tim, "but isn't there something about him that just seems to set your teeth on edge?"

"Sure there is," McGee replied mechanically, he was clearly distracted. "But there are things about you, Gibbs, Ziva and even Abby that put my teeth on edge; so I'm just taking a wait and see attitude because I'm betting the issues are minor."

"You're just saying that because you're dating his daughter."

"True," McGee replied. He was checking his terminal and noticed that a program had finished running. He opened it and realized that those E-mails that Xander had wanted decrypted were finished. He opened the first one and suddenly froze about half way through. He couldn't believe what he'd just read, so he read it again, all the while mumbling "Oh My God", over and over.

Tony heard the mumbling and looked over to see McGee freaking out. "What's the matter McGeek?"

"Umm," McGee started, he didn't really want to say anything, but he desperately needed some advice.

Just then Gibbs walked back in, "What's going on?" he asked.

"Don't know boss," Tony replied. "McGee just started freaking out at his terminal.

"Well," Gibbs said turning, "what's the problem, McGee?"

"Well, earlier today, Xander handed me a flash drive with some encrypted data on it. He asked me to decrypt the thing for him, said it was personal which was why he didn't want his own people to work on it." He glanced around nervously and his voice got quieter, "I said sure and had one of my programs working on it while we were out and it just finished up."

"And why is that causing your meltdown?" DiNozzo asked.

"See for yourself," McGee replied and turned his monitor so both Gibbs and Tony could read what was there. It didn't take long for them to see what the problem was.

"So according to what we've got, back in 2007 this two bit African warlord was hired to kidnap a couple of Harris' operatives so that the contractor could figure out what they were doing and the scope of Harris' organization's influence," Tony said. "Not exactly tidings of comfort and joy but not that bad either."

"No, it's worse," Gibbs muttered. "Harris told me about this op, two of his people were taken and when they went to get them back, his fiancé was killed."

"Oh crap," Tim said, putting his head in his hands.

"So you're telling me that some minor warlord over in Africa was hired to capture a couple of Harris' people and during the whole thing his fiancé was killed . . . ."

"Tortured and killed," Gibbs added.

"Tortured and killed," Tony amended. "And that now we have proof that it was Eli David that set the whole thing in motion? And we're sure that we're talking about the same Harris that is having dinner with Eli David's daughter right now?"

"Yep," Gibbs replied.

"Boss, what the hell do I tell him," McGee asked as he looked up.

"And do we tell Ziva," DiNozzo added.


	20. It Is Possible pt 3

It Is Possible pt.3

Ziva and Xander were sitting in a diner that looked as though it had been transported there from the 50's, a place one of the local slayers had discovered and communicated to Xander. "So what do you think?" Xander asked.

"It is interesting," Ziva responded honestly as she looked around. "I've never been in a place like this," as she picked up the menu. "Is there anything on the menu that you would recommend?"

"This is a diner, so stick to the basics and you're gonna be fine."

"So you are saying that it would be best to avoid ordering pasta dishes or stir fry?"

"Yeah," Xander replied. Then seeing the waitress approaching asked, "Do you trust me?"

Ziva looked at him for a long second and then just nodded.

"I'll have the chicken fried steak and iced tea," Xander said, then nodding towards Ziva added, "my friend would like the meat loaf and . . . . ." He looked at Ziva, "What do you want to drink?"

"Water is fine." The waitress just nodded and bustled off.

"Why do you come to places like this Xander?"

"What do you mean, what's wrong with this place?"

"Nothing, or so I suppose; but I doubt that it is listed anywhere as one of the fine dining establishments in Washington."

"Probably not, but then again; that kinda depends on your definition of fine, doesn't it."

"True, so why here?" Ziva persisted.

"Because after ten years of eating almost continuously in the bush, I'm trying to get reacquainted with the food I grew up with. Just plain old American grub, and that's what you find in places like this and most certainly not what you find in places like Andre's or Chez Ritz."

As he was speaking, the waitress came out with their orders and set them down without a word. Xander dug into his gravy covered monstrosity with gusto and Ziva grinned momentarily watching him. She then took a tentative bite of the "meat loaf" and found it surprisingly good and comforting somehow. Much like her companion she thought. There was something about Xander that just made everything seem alright, as though he were the one spot of calm in an ocean of chaos. Ziva had found herself looking forward to these dinner excursions primarily to bask in the temporary calm that enveloped her when she was with Xander; the food was a distant second. 'Although,' she thought, taking a heartier bite of her meat loaf, 'this is really good.'

"Can I ask you a question?" he asked, after both had slowed down a bit.

"Certainly."

"Did you have any rituals when you were growing up, and I don't mean anything religious? I mean the kind of thing that's only important to a kid; like wishing on a falling star or that kind of thing.

Ziva thought about her childhood and realized that there had been very little childishness in it. "No, nothing like what you are talking about, why?"

"I kinda need your help with one, something from my past that I'm trying to find again. Could you be at my place Thursday at seven or so in the evening? We'll have some dinner and I'll explain everything."

Ziva only hesitated for a moment, "Thursday then, I will be there."

"Thanks, and thanks also for talking to Maria, she's actually managed to be calm about the whole test thing since you spoke to her."

"I was happy to do it, and she is a wonderful young woman."

"You wouldn't be saying that if you'd been around when she was fifteen or so," Xander chuckled. "There was this one time . . . . . ."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Tony was glad to see that Ziva was in before Harris, it was not one of the days that Harris trained with the former Mossad agent and he tended to sleep in a bit on those days. He'd been thinking about what he'd learned from the E-mails that McGee had decrypted and he wasn't just gonna sit back and do or say nothing. He cared a lot for Ziva and as good as she was Tony was convinced that if Harris wanted her dead, then she would be dead. Not to mention that "get out of jail free" card Harris had, the man wouldn't even do jail time if he blew Ziva away in the middle of the bull pen. "We need to talk," he mumbled quickly and practically dragged her to the interrogation room.

Ziva could have easily broken DiNozzo's grip, or his arm for that matter; but he was wearing a more serious look than she'd ever remembered seeing on his face; so she waited to see what he had to say before smacking him around for fun. "What is it Tony?"

"Harris gave McGee a flash drive yesterday morning with some encrypted E-mails on it and it finished decrypting them right after you left last night."

"And why is this such a cause for worry, Xander told me that he had asked McGee to do this."

"But what he didn't tell you was what was in those E-mails. It was a series of messages to a minor warlord in Africa asking him to take a couple of Harris' operatives in order to make the NSWC a little less secret. During the whole series of events, the operatives were taken and rescued but Harris' fiancé was tortured to death by the warlord."

"And how is this significant to me?" Ziva asked, but there was a ball of ice forming in her belly. The story was way too similar to the one she'd been told back in Illinois for comfort.

"Because your dad was the contractor," Tony finished.

"So what are you saying; that I am in danger from Harris?"

"I don't know Ziva, there is so much that we don't know about the guy that it's scary."

"Do I have to remind you that he risked his life for me just a couple of weeks ago?"

"Yeah, but that was when he only suspected something, now that he has proof; who knows what he'd do." Tony took a step closer, "Harris strikes me as the kind of guy who won't act until he's sure, but once he's sure, then no holds are barred."

"Now you are just being paranoid," she shot back. He front was just that because the voice of Tucker Wells was echoing in her head, again telling the tale of Harris' vengeance.

"Am I really," he said. "Let me ask you something Ziva, what would you do if you found out that Harris' boss was responsible for the death of your sister." He seemed to consider it for a second, "No, it isn't what would you do, it's what wouldn't you do? Would there be anything you wouldn't do for revenge? And another thing to keep in mind is the fact that he could shoot you on sight and the worst we could do is throw him out of the country."

"Xander might go after my father, just maybe; but he would do nothing to me," Ziva insisted.

"Are you sure about that," Tony persisted. "Are you willing to bet your life on that?"

Ziva just stood there processing what Tony had just told her and his question was valid. What would she not do to gain revenge for the murder of someone close to her. She'd certainly seen a lot of darkness in Harris; would she survive if it was unleashed at her? Finally she looked up, "Thank you Tony."

"Just watch your back," DiNozzo said. "And we'll watch Harris."

"We," she began. "Who else knows about all of this?"

"Me, McGee and Gibbs," Tony thought for a second, "and maybe Leon if Gibbs told him last night."

Ziva just groaned and put her face in her hands; there was nothing like a secret that everyone was in on.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

As she came out of interrogation, Ziva saw McGee hand Harris a sheaf of papers. From the look on McGee's face, it was clear what being handed over, the poor guy was subtly leaning away, like he was hoping to escape the blast radius or something. But Harris surprised her. He glanced at the papers, and Ziva saw a definite flash of rage, but then it was completely suppressed and if Ziva hadn't seen that flash, she never would have believed it had been there. Then Ziva watched as Harris thanked McGee and shoved the papers in his desk just in time for Tony to walk up. "We're supposed to meet in Abby's lab, right now."

"Is the boss already there?" Xander asked.

"I don't know, I just know we're supposed to be down there," DiNozzo answered.

Without a word, the four of them got on the elevator. Ziva found herself standing just a bit in front of Xander and she realized that all of her senses were on high alert. It was not a conscious decision, but she was prepared for instant action. It was the longest fifteen seconds of her life. As the door opened, Tony and Tim were the first out and Xander murmured, "You okay?"

"I am fine," Ziva replied and hurried after her team-mates, but not so quickly that she didn't hear Xander's reply of, "Yeah, that was convincing."

Xander followed the rest into Abby's lab to find that Gibbs was already there with his hand surgically attached to his coffee cup and Abby slurping contentedly on a Caff-Pow. "Okay, we're all here," Tony announced.

Without speaking, Abby walked over and pushed a key on her computer and an almost alien picture popped up. "Say hello to Actaea Pachypoda, better known as the White Baneberry or the Doll's Eyes plant; but you all might know it better as our murder weapon."

"That's just about the creepiest damned thing I've ever seen," Xander blurted out. "And you're saying that somehow someone slipped one of these things to the Admiral?"

"Not slipped so much as tricked," Abby replied. "One or two berries were dried and ground up and introduced into the Admiral's hand lotion," here Abby blushed and the men looked uncomfortable.

"Is it absorbed easily through the skin?" Ziva asked as she was the only person that wasn't squicked out at the moment.

"No, which is why the killer mixed in some DiMethyl Sulfoxide or DMSO."

"In English please Abby," Gibbs said.

"It's found in Nicotine patches and that kind of thing, it carries whatever you want through the skin and into the bloodstream."

"Weird," Xander muttered. "So do we know where the lotion came from?"

"It's over the counter stuff," Abby replied. "Someone mixed this into the lotion after it had already been opened."

"So someone that had access to the Admiral or at least his office," Gibbs said.

"And where would you find the plant?" McGee asked.

"In the woods, the deep woods," Abby said. "Somewhere like Maine or the Appalachia's; that kind of woods."

"Would they carry it in some kind of 'New Age Herbal Healing' store?" Tony wondered.

"Not according to what I've found so far, but that's worth a look," Abby replied.

"So we're looking for who had access to both the plant and the Admiral," Gibbs summed up. Xander. . ."

"I'll check on the stores, Boss," Xander replied. "I've got a couple of friends who are Wiccan so I know how to talk herbs."

"Good to know. McGee, you check on the recent travels of our principle suspects."

"See if any of them took a trip recently to where these things grow."

"Ziva, you got talk to the wife about the blackmail attempt and find out if there was someone manning the camera." She nodded and Gibbs turned to DiNozzo. "Bring in the son, I think it's time I talked to the Lieutenant."

"Got it boss," and the four of them scattered. Gibbs watched them go and then leaned over and kissed Abby on the head. "Get some sleep."

"Alright Gibbs," she replied and headed for the cot she had in the back room.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

Xander dropped his phone back into its cradle and rubbed his eye, he'd just wasted two hours on a dead end. He'd gotten a complete list of the local herb and magic shops from the local Slayer house and had just finished calling the last of them. No one carried the plant, heck most of them hadn't ever heard of the thing and those that had agreed with him that it was a damned creepy looking plant. Surprisingly enough, there weren't any demons that ate the thing either, and considering the exotic digestive systems involved, that surprised him. He was wondering what to do next when McGee let out an "Aha".

"What did you find?" Xander asked.

"Anne Dedham's father has a cabin in Buchanan county Virginia."

"And for the geographically impaired?"

"It's in the western part of the state near the Kentucky border."

"So we're talking deep woods?"

"The deepest."

"Do you think the Colonel had anything to do with this mess?"

"No, he hasn't left Okinawa and his daughter hasn't taken any trips lately, at least not that I can find."

"So you know who this is pointing towards?"

"It's a good thing I'm having him brought in then, isn't it?" Gibbs said from behind the two of them.

McGee jumped but Xander just tensed for a second, still he was pissed that someone had snuck up on him. Shaking his head he opened his desk and took out the decryptions that McGee had finished for him. There really wasn't anything here that he hadn't already expected. But somehow having the proof in his hands brought back issues that he'd thought were long gone. He closed his eye and wondered how he was gonna deal with the whole situation.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

"Mrs. Marcum, I have some questions about a few files we found on your husband's computer."

"You found the videos, didn't you?" Margaret Marcum asked in an amused voice.

"We did and the questions pertain to those videos," Ziva said; all business. "The first is; was there someone operating the camera?"

"No, Charles set that up himself, just as he insisted on me wearing a mask. It was odd at first but actually quite liberating."

"I will take your word for that," Ziva replied quickly. "Also, did you know that someone attempted to blackmail your husband because they were convinced he was having an affair?"

"He mentioned it, I said he should go to the Navy about it, but he insisted that it would blow over. He didn't want the Navy involved in our private lives."

"And your relationship with William, how has that been lately."

Margaret Marcum studied Ziva for a moment or two. "If you're asking that question they you know that it hasn't been good lately. For years they were incredibly close and then suddenly William always seemed to be angry around Charles and hasn't willingly spoken to us in some time."

"Did his change in attitude coincide with the blackmail attempt?"

"Before it, actually," Mrs. Marcum replied, and then her eyes got big. "You think William had something to do with Charles' death."

"I cannot comment on an ongoing investigation," she said quickly and stood. "Thank you for your time and co-operation." She was out the door before Mrs. Marcum had realized that she was moving and was headed back to the Navy Yard as quickly as she could get there.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

Lieutenant Marcum had been cooling his heels in the interrogation room for almost half an hour before Gibbs walked in. For the four observers, it was instructional to see how Gibbs walked the man through his crime, dissecting the steps that he had taken and then finally dropping the bombshell that the 'affair' he'd been so worked up over was simply his mom and dad being a bit kinky. After that, the Lieutenant had folded like a house of cards, confessing everything and in the process, clearing his wife and sister of any involvement.

"Do you really think the wife and sister had nothing to do with it?" Xander asked Tony.

"It doesn't matter what I think probie, what matters is what we can prove and we've got a confession that they weren't involved."

"I didn't ask what we could prove, I asked what you thought."

Tony glanced quickly at Xander and then back to the interrogation room where Lieutenant Marcum was writing out his confession under Gibbs watchful glare. "Of course they helped; the wife probably helped prep the berries and the sister probably switched the bottles of lotion but we're gonna take the Lieutenant at his word for this one and spare the family as much pain as possible."

Xander just nodded and didn't say anything else.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

After the Lieutenant's confession all that was really left was clean up, so Xander left early. With all the things he had on his mind, he was barely effective as it was.

He went home and talked to Maria in between catching up on all the movies that he'd missed in the last ten years. He laid the whole thing out for her, what he now knew and what his options were for dealing with it. All the while she had silently listened and when he had finally finished all the brat had said was, "Better you than me, Papa."

"Now that's real helpful," Xander had groused. "I'm actually asking for advice and you're blowing me off."

"You already know what to do Papa; you just don't want to do it."

Xander sat back and considered what Maria had said and reluctantly admitted that it was true, he knew what he would have to do, he just didn't want to do it. Realizing that it was an issue for another day, Xander sat back and lost himself in the action of National Treasure; while Maria just grinned at her Papa.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

The next day at NCIS was uncomfortable. There was a tension in the air that kept conversations quiet and at a minimum. There was the usual paperwork and other tasks that were involved with wrapping up a case but no one spoke to each other beyond what was needed for informational purposes, at least while Xander was around. As for Xander, well he was still trying to get his gut to agree with his head about what should be done concerning Eli David when he wasn't shooting glares at Tim for spilling the beans. Not that he really blamed Tim, in his spot, Xander probably would have done the same thing; that didn't mean he was supposed to like it. The one good thing that came from the day was an idea about how to prank Gibbs. It was something that had been in an E-mail Tanya, one of the Cleveland slayers; and as soon as Xander had read it, he knew that it was exactly what Gibbs deserved. The wicked smile that had momentarily been on his face had done nothing to allay the fears of his co-workers but Xander figured that nothing would help that except time.

Figuring that he'd put up with enough, Xander decided to head home at 5 which was a little early for him but there really wasn't much left to do. Passing Ziva's desk he crouched down and said, "See you at Seven, if that's alright?"

Ziva had been on edge all day, and when Xander had come near her, her hand had crept towards her gun almost of its own volition. Then he had reminded her of their date and she honestly did not know what to do. Xander hadn't said or done anything that would suggest he was seeking to use her for revenge, and yet the possibility was real. Finally, she approached her fears as she did everything else, head on. "Seven is fine."

"You've got my address, right?"

"Yes, I remember," she replied.

"Great," he said, straightening up. "See you tonight," then he gazed at the rest of the bull-pen and bit off a terse, "Gentlemen," and made a bee line for the elevator. As soon as the door was closed, Tony erupted.

"Are you nuts, that's just walking into the lion's den?"

"I will be fine, Tony."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes, I am sure."

"But you'll be careful anyway," Gibbs said.

"Of course, just like always," she replied.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

It was five minutes to seven and Ziva was approaching Xander's front door. She'd seen the house when she'd been car-pooling with him while his motorcycle was being repaired but this was the first time she'd seen it up close. It was much neater than she'd expected. First of all, she was surprised that Harris lived in a house and not an apartment considering the temporary nature of his stay; also, the tidy nature of the house and grounds wasn't what she'd expected for a single man living by himself. She reached out and knocked on the front door.

"It's open," a voice called out from inside.

Cautiously, with her hand resting on the butt of her gun, Ziva eased open the front door and stepped quietly into the hallway.

"I'm back in the kitchen," the voice called out again.

Ziva eased towards the source of the voice, her nerves on edge. She peaked around the entrance to the kitchen and froze, not sure at what she was seeing. There were magazines everywhere and Xander was sitting at the kitchen table, filling out subscription cards as fast as he could. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"A little prank," he replied with a twinkle in his eye, "wanna help? Oh, and you want anything to drink?"

"Thank you, but I'm fine for now, and who are you pranking?" she asked as she transferred a pile of magazines from the chair to the table so she could sit down.

"Gibbs," Xander replied. "He made me watch all those files with a smile on his face, so I figured it's time for a little payback."

"And how are you doing that?"

"I've got his address and stuff, so I'm submitting subscriptions in his name."

Ziva just gaped for a moment and then glanced at the pile of magazines in front of her; the title on top was 'Lesbian Nuns'. She then looked back at the young man sitting across from her and wondered where he'd found something so disgusting but the manic grin on his face as well as his enthusiasm was contagious. So she opened up the smut and caught the subscription card as it fell out and started writing, but this one was going to DiNozzo. She couldn't help but giggle a bit at what she was doing. In just a few minutes they'd finished with most of the subscriptions being in Gibbs name but a choice few going to Tony.

"So what do you want on your pizza?"

"Anything that isn't pork is fine," Ziva answered. She really wasn't picky when it came to pizza, but she still tried to keep Kosher.

"Before I place the order, I need some advice?" Xander asked.

"About?"

"About what to do about DiNozzo."

"What about him?"

"Well, I'd be willing to bet that he's parked down the street right now with some sort of night vision goggles or something like that; and it's getting old."

"So what are the options?"

"Well, I could just ignore him, I could order an extra pizza and have the delivery guy drop it at his car or the third option."

"Which is?" Ziva asked.

Xander just gave a wicked grin and went to the hall closet where he pulled out a gun case.

"We're not going to shoot DiNozzo," Ziva exclaimed.

"Even if we use this?" Xander asked, pulling the weapon out.

Ziva could immediately see that it was not a standard sniper rifle; there was something odd about it. "What is that?"

"It's a training rifle for snipers, it shoots wax bullets."

"And you would shoot Tony?"

"No, but I figure his car is fair game."

Ziva actually thought about it for a minute but finally said, "Why don't we make sure he is there first."

"Fine," Xander said and went into the darkened front room. Sure enough, Tony's car was parked in the street two houses down. "See, just like clockwork," Xander smirked.

"Very well," Ziva sighed. "Just order him a pizza, and if he does it again; then we use the rifle."

"Fair enough," Xander said and picking up the phone he placed his order, giving the delivery guy explicit instructions. After he hung up he started straightening up the kitchen and throwing all of the magazines into the recycling bins; the subscription cards were in a neat pile. "Before anything else tonight, we need to talk about your dad," Xander said without preamble.

"What about him?"

"Come on Ziva, don't insult my intelligence here." Xander said, sitting down.

"Are you going to kill him?" she asked bluntly.

"I'm honestly not sure," Xander replied. "Part of me wants to kill him, part of me wants to remove his kneecaps, and another part wants to just pass it off as the vagaries of fate and leave it alone." Xander sighed, "We all know that the chances of reaching retirement age are almost non-existent doing what we do but you don't expect to lose people due to some overly curious asshole with more money than caution. That being said I also want to assure you that the dinners we've had are because I like you and I like being with you, not because I'm looking to put a boot in your dad's ass."

Ziva blushed a bit at that, Xander put his heart right out in the open and that was a courage that Ziva wished she had. Looking to divert the conversation away from herself, she asked, "So your fiancé was killed in Africa?"

"Faith, yeah she was," Xander said. He leaned over and hooked open a drawer and pulled out a small album, flipped a couple of pages and then slid it over to Ziva. She saw a picture of a sultry young woman in tight clothing who was flipping off the camera.

"God I loved her," Xander said, his tone wistful. "She was all passion and fire and being with her was like riding out a tornado every day. She was just a force of nature."

"And now you have a chance at vengeance?"

"Maybe, I mean I know your dad didn't capture her or torture her but I can't help thinking that there were a lot of better ways to try and figure out what the NSWC did than by capture and blackmail and that if he'd tried one of them, she'd still be alive. But I also realize that the people immediately responsible have already paid for what they did. That doesn't get Eli a free pass, but if I'm going to deal with him, well that's in the future." Xander said. "As for right now, I just want you to know that what's going on with your father is just between me and him; at least as far as I'm concerned. If you get involved, well that's your choice but I'm not going to use you or go through you to get to your dad."

"Why not?" Ziva asked. In all honesty, it was what she had expected of Xander; she just hadn't expected him to be so up front about it.

"Let's just say I'm a big believer in not blaming the child for the sins of the father."

"Your father was . . . . ."

"An alcoholic," Xander said. "And sometimes I think its pure luck that I didn't end up like him."

"I believe that you are selling yourself short," Ziva replied.

"Maybe," Xander said. Anything else he was going to say was interrupted by the doorbell. He walked to the front door and paid for the pizza, then he gave an impudent wave towards DiNozzo's car. From her vantage point, Ziva watched Tony hunker down, trying to disappear.

As they sat down at the table, Ziva spoke up as she reached for a slice. "Now that our unpleasant business is over, just why am I here?"

"I need an excuse to want to have dinner with a beautiful woman?" he asked with an exaggerated eyebrow waggle.

Ziva blushed a little at his open admiration but was also irritated at his avoiding the question. "Xander . . . ." she began.

"Alright, alright," he relented. "This is another story from my past." He took a drink and his eye lost focus as if he were actually seeing the past. "Growing up, my best friend was a girl. Now if that didn't make me enough of an outcast in elementary school, you had to add in the fact that she was Jewish as well. Now big cities usually have a fairly sizable Jewish population, but a town like Sunnydale, well not so much. Her mom was indifferent about their faith but her dad was kinda schizophrenic, he was really orthodox in some areas and completely indifferent in others. Eating kosher wasn't a big deal for them but celebrating holidays was. So their's was the only house without Christmas decorations or Easter stuff, well you get the idea, it really bugged her. But what was worse was her dad forbid her from watching the usual Holiday specials on TV which is a quick on ramp to the outcast highway if you're a kid."

"So what we started doing was that she would sneak over to my house whenever a good one was on and we'd watch it together. It wouldn't surprise me to find out that our parents knew about it; but if they did they never said anything. Anyway, of all the different Holiday specials, her favorites were the Peanuts ones."

"Peanuts," Ziva asked, obviously confused.

"You know, Charlie Brown, Snoopy the dog," he waved his hands around; "the whole Peanuts gang."

Ziva's brow furrowed, "I have seen the comics in the newspaper, but I've never seen any of the television shows."

"You're kidding me."

"No," here Ziva grimaced. "There was not a lot of childhood in my childhood."

"This is great," Xander said, a smile lighting his face. "I get to introduce someone else to 'Merry Christmas Charlie Brown'."

"Is this why you invited me over tonight?" Ziva was leaning towards being upset, as though she were chosen just because she was of a certain 'type'. But it was difficult to stay angry if the face of Xander's honest delight.

"No, I like spending time with you and I just wanted to share the experience again with someone I care about. You not ever seeing it before is just a bonus."

"Well, when is it on?"

"Uhhh, in about ten minutes," Xander answered, looking at his watch.

They wandered into the front room, Xander leading the way. For her part, Ziva was amazed at all of the movies scattered around the room. There were almost as many movies as there were books. "Now this is what I would expect a single man's home to look like," she quipped.

Xander blushed a bit. "Sorry, I'm catching up on all the movies that have come out while I was in Africa. Most of them suck but there're a few gems," he replied. He plopped down onto an overstuffed leather sofa and Ziva did the same, she found it wonderfully comfortable. Xander turned on the TV and they watched the end of Jeopardy while waiting for the show to start.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked out of the blue.

"Sure."

"Why do you have a house and not an apartment since you're not going to be here all that long?"

"I've got some reasons," he replied after a brief hesitation. "I need the room for some things that I do in my spare time, but mostly I like the quiet and you don't get that living in an apartment."

"That is true," she sighed and sank back into the sofa some more. Soon enough the special came on and Ziva found it to be charming. Looking over, she was surprised to see the glow of utter delight on Xander's face as the story unfolded.

As it was wrapping up, Ziva saw Xander abruptly stand and fix his arms to his side, point his nose to the sky and start moving his legs; a look of sheer radiant joy on his face. Ziva was incredulous at the sight and wondered what she was missing. She looked from Xander to the screen and back and finally realized that he was dancing just like the little dog. A smile bloomed on her face, which was quickly followed by laughter and then, still laughing; Ziva David stood up and joined Xander in the 'Snoopy Dance'.


	21. Nights pt 1

Nights pt. 1

Ziva was smiling broadly when she got off the elevator, the previous evening had been one of the best she'd experienced in quite some time and the fun she was going to have at Tony's expense just made it that much better. "How was your pizza?" she asked as she walked past DiNozzo's desk.

"A little heavy on the sauce, but otherwise it was okay," Tony replied. He was about to ask Ziva about the motorcycle jacket she was wearing when McGee cut in.

"Pizza, what pizza?"

"Last night, Tony staked out Xander's house," Ziva replied with a smile. "Xander felt sorry for him so we had a pizza sent out to him so he would have something to eat."

"Next time, make sure there's pepperonis on the thing," Tony replied weakly as Tim started laughing. "Nice jacket," he added with a bit of snark.

"Thanks," Ziva replied. "Xander gave me a ride in and it was a bit too cold for the jacket I had."

"Ride in huh," Tony said. "So you were there all night?"

"Obviously," Ziva replied with a bit of ice in her tone.

"So what did you do?" Tim asked.

"Dancing," was Ziva's one word reply, and the smile refused to come off her face for over an hour.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

Xander showed up about ten minutes later, he had chatted with Ducky on his way in, and had sat down behind his desk after shooting Ziva a warm smile. The paperwork on the Marcum case was being speedily if grumpily finished up when Tony got up to talk to an attractive woman who had walked in and looked lost. After having directed her to where she needed to go, and caging her number in the process, he sat down to find that there was now a package on his desk. Warily he opened it to find the worlds tackiest wig, a Groucho nose complete with glasses and a mustache, a pair of sunglasses that were wider than his face, a makeup kit for clowns and several other bits of junk; the sheet that came with it proclaimed it to be a 'Do it Yourself Disguise Kit'. It even told him that he could 'fool his friends'. "Clever there Probie," he snarked at Xander.

Xander tried to give Tony his innocent look, but the smirk that kept popping onto his face ruined it. One thing that made him smile, though; was the fact that it had been Ziva's idea. Meanwhile, Ziva was fighting to keep her face impassive, which was difficult to do because she kept imagining Tony's reaction when the magazines started arriving.

For his part, Gibbs just sat back and watched everything with a smile, glad that the tension from the previous day had worked itself out. At about half past Ten, his phone rang; before he had even picked it up, the four agents were shutting down their terminals and getting their gear together.

"Where to boss," Tim asked when Gibbs had hung up the phone.

"About three blocks away, DC Metro found a dead Marine in an alley," Gibbs replied. The elevator closed and the team headed out.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

It was a depressing sight; a man who was barely into his twenties would now get no older. "What do you see?" Gibbs asked his current probie.

"Cause of death is ambiguous because we have two potentially fatal wounds," Xander began. "We've got multiple gunshots to the chest, but his throat has also been torn up. I can see at least two punctures, there may be more." Xander looked around, "he was shot in the middle of the alley, and his body was moved, but just enough to get it out of easy sight, no attempt at concealment even though the body could have been easily disposed of since there's a manhole right over there," he pointed. "The unconcern with hiding the body suggests either a crime of passion where the killer is too freaked out to think clearly or some kind of psychopath who just doesn't care."

"Which way are you leaning?" Gibbs asked.

"I'm not," Xander shot back. "I let the evidence lean for me." He looked at the body again, "I don't see any obvious ID and supposedly the cops have left the body alone; how did they determine he was one of ours?"

"Tattoo on the upper right arm," Gibbs replied. "Around here if one of the local LEO's sees that, they assume it's a Marine until we say otherwise."

"Fair enough," Xander replied.

Gibbs just nodded and the two of them started policing the crime scene, this was made more difficult by a Metro cop who insisted on poking at the scattered bags of garbage with his foot. Xander was doing his best to work around the dip-stick when he heard the tinkle of metal hitting pavement. "Hold it," he shouted. Of course everyone froze with the exception of the one guy that Xander wanted to freeze. "I said hold it you moron," Xander yelled at the yutz.

"What have you got, Xander?" Gibbs asked while ignoring the spluttering cop.

"I heard some metal hit the pavement when he was kicking at the garbage."

The cop was about to object to being called a moron but a nuclear powered glare from Gibbs shut him up. The others just watched as Xander, with his eye closed, moved his head from side to side for a moment or two, and then he leaned over and pointed, "Brass, right here," he said with total confidence.

"Any idea what caliber there probie," DiNozzo asked in a joking tone.

".38 from the sound of it, but maybe .40," Xander replied with a straight face.

Tim moved in and helped Xander carefully clear the trash away. Soon enough he held up a shell casing. ".38," was all he said but everyone but Gibbs looked stunned.

"How did you know, and don't give me that 'sound' crap?"

"The size of the entry wound," Xander replied with a grin, but then his grin turned to a mock scowl. "Go ahead; ruin my reputation as a genius with this stuff."

"You heard the brass, that's genius enough for me," Gibbs replied with a smirk and then moved aside as Ducky and Jimmy Palmer showed up.

The old ME looked around so he could put the body in the context of its surroundings, then he knelt down and began his exam. "Close grouping would suggest that his assailant was quite close to him. Be sure and take clothing samples so that Abby can check for gunshot residue," he muttered to Jimmy Palmer, who just nodded. "Now this is interesting," he said, examining the neck wound. "It appears that someone made a mess out of this poor man's neck," he said and then realized what it looked like. "Oh my," he said reeling back, his eyes darting to where Xander was standing. For his part the younger man just nodded once in understanding.

"You've seen something like this before?" Gibbs asked, having noted Ducky's reaction.

"Once or twice Jethro," he replied, working to get himself back under control; "but I'd rather not speculate just yet."

Gibbs grunted in reply and stood back as Ducky took a couple of blood samples from the victim's mouth, being extra careful with them. The rest of Ducky's work was carried out in silence, with the exception of one or two muttered comments to Jimmy; as the rest of the team continued to search the alley for evidence. A few more interesting stains and items were found, but Xander had moved through it all on autopilot. Like Ducky, he had recognized the obvious signs of a vampire attack and now he was almost solely focused on doing whatever he could to keep that bit of information from his new team-mates.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"So who do we have?" Gibbs asked once everyone had gotten back to NCIS and had a chance to do some basic digging.

"No ID on the body," McGee started, "but the fingerprints got a match in the military data base. Say hello to Lance Corporal Mike Stevens," the man's Marine Corps ID flashed onto the screen. "Twenty two years old from Columbia, South Carolina. He's been deployed twice, once to Iraq and once to Afghanistan; got back from his second deployment two weeks ago."

"Two deployments and he was only a Lance Corporal," Xander said. "Isn't that a little low?"

"He's been promoted four times and busted back twice," Tony answered, looking at a report. "Both times for insubordination and striking a superior officer," Tony looked up with a smirk. "Sounds like he had a temper, boss."

"Yeah, it does, DiNozzo, you got anything else?"

"Not at the moment," Tony answered, "but I will."

"He's married," Ziva jumped in. "Her name was Madaline Kenner from around Erie, Pennsylvania," the picture of a painfully plain girl flashed up on the screen. "She had moved here for work and they met and became engaged before his first deployment and married between his first and second. No children and they live in an apartment off base just outside of Quantico."

"Where does she work?" Gibbs asked.

"When they married she was an accountant with Logistlink, a shipping company that's limited to the Mid-Atlantic area," Xander supplied. "She left them while he was overseas and there's no record of current employment." He looked up, "One other thing is, there's a .38 caliber Beretta registered in her name."

Gibbs looked them over and then back at the screen, "keep digging," he said and went off to see what Ducky and Abby could tell him.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

"What have ya got, Ducky?" Gibbs asked as he strolled into the Morgue.

"Well, it appears that this poor fellow was killed twice, Jethro; and he was less than happy about it."

"Go on."

"Well, first of all there is widespread bruising and other signs of a struggle; from the lividity it would appear that these were perimortem."

"So he was killed in the middle of a fight?"

"Yes, it would appear so," Ducky replied. "The bullet wounds to the chest were the cause of death, and then before he was even cool, someone came by and drained his blood."

"Why?"

"I have no idea," the old ME said. "It wasn't just gravity, though; some sort of suction device was used and there were two clear entry holes into the Carotid Artery so it is possible that there were two people or that there was one person and two devices."

"Why would you want a dead man's blood," Gibbs wondered aloud.

"Perhaps it was someone like your three young ladies in Chicago who fancied themselves witches or something to that effect. I would suggest asking either Abby or Alexander, both of them have insights into and contacts with the more . . . esoteric fringes of society."

Gibbs just gazed at Ducky for a moment or two and then simply turned and headed for Abby's lab, a faint "Thanks Ducky," thrown over his shoulder as the door closed.

Ducky turned back to the body. He hoped that the blood in the mouth had been the victims, otherwise he'd have to explain how a body had disappeared from his Morgue and that was always awkward.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

"What have ya got for me Abby?" Gibbs asked quietly.

""Gibbs," Abby squeaked out as she simultaneously jumped and turned. "How many times do I have to talk to you about sneaking up on me?"

"At least once more," he answered with a grin. "So what do you have?"

"Well, most of the blood was the victims, however there was a different type found on his hands."

"So he hit someone?"

"Yes, at least hard enough to cut someone. I'm running the DNA now but I can't tell you anything yet beyond the fact that the other guy really was a guy." She turned to another machine. "I was able to get a fingerprint from the casing."

"Get a match?"

"Yes, to Mike Stevens; our victim."

"So he was shot with his own gun?"

"I don't know, but that's one possibility."

"Anything else?"

"Well there was definite gunshot residue on his shirt, so he was shot from close range like we thought."

"What about the holes in his neck?"

"I really haven't been focusing on that, so not much other than what we already knew. The Carotid Artery was punctured twice and whoever did it knew what they were doing."

"How do you know that?"

"There was no sign of tearing or hesitation and the punctures went into the artery without going through it."

"Would there be any reason for someone to get whatever they used into the artery and then pull it out and do it again?"

"No, why?"

"Ducky was thinking that there were two men or one man and two suction devices."

"I'll tell him to look for fingerprints about the chin and neck, but I bet he already has."

"Yeah, well remember rule 8."

"Never assume, got it Gibbs."

"Call me when you've got anything else," Gibbs said as he headed towards the elevator.

Gibbs was thinking hard while he was riding up to the bull pen. This was a weird case already and it threatened to get stranger yet. Wasn't it fortunate that he seemed to have an expert in weird temporarily assigned to his team? The question was, who to partner him with? He didn't have much time to make a decision.

When the elevator opened, Gibbs all but stalked into the bull pen, the four current members of his team looking at him in anticipation. "From what Ducky says, we've got two possible causes of death; DiNozzo, you, me and McGee will focus on the shooting; Ziva, you and Harris look at whoever drained the guy's blood."

He got three versions of "on it boss", and one "yes sir", in reply. Gibbs glared over at Harris because of the "sir" but all he got back was an unrepentant smirk. Gibbs just shook his head and turned to DiNozzo and McGee to give the two their assignments. "You two; go talk to the wife and I'll see what the man's CO has to say."

"We're on it boss," Tony replied.

As the three dispersed, Ziva turned to Xander, "What do you suggest?"

"Well, you're the agent in charge, but I'd suggest talking to Ducky to see if he can give us an idea of whatever was stuck into the Corporal looked like and then talk to Abby because she could point us in the right direction."

"What about your contacts?"

"I'll give them a try, but for the most part Wiccan's and people like that are quite pacifistic, it's hard for me to imagine one of them draining a guy's blood." He thought for a second, "On the other hand, if the guy was already dead then I can see one of them taking the blood if they needed it for some sort of ritual, you know; a waste not want not kind of thing."

Ziva just nodded, "Let's go talk to Ducky and Abby then." When she stood up, Xander was once again reminded of how lethal Ziva David was. Every move was as fluid and controlled as a ballet dancer, or a stalking panther. "Right behind you boss," Xander said with a smirk as he rose and followed Ziva.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

"The shape of what was used to pierce his neck?" Ducky asked.

"Exactly," Ziva replied. "Once we know that we can try and match it to whatever the person used."

"I understand," Ducky replied. "It will take me about an hour or so if I can drag Mr. Palmer away from his wedding planning."

"Thank you Ducky," Ziva replied and started to head out.

"There are two things I can tell you right now," Ducky called out.

"And they are?" Ziva asked, turning back around.

"Look for something with a bit of a hook in it, like a snake's fang." He pointed to the body, "there was some tearing on the neck when whatever it was was removed, that bit of information tells me that whatever went into this poor fellow was hooked, not straight. Also, I was able to lift a fingerprint from the victim's neck. I believe that whoever drained this poor fellow turned his neck for a better angle and put a finger in the victim's blood. It is only a partial but it may be of some value."

"Thanks," Xander said, catching the look the old ME threw his way after Ziva had turned back towards the elevator. He knew that Ducky meant the victim was drained by a vampire. Now all Xander had to do was convince at least five highly and intelligent people that it was something else.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

"We need two things," Xander said as they talked to Abby.

"And those would be?" the Goth girl asked.

"First, could you run this partial that Ducky lifted off the victim?"

"Not a problem, and what else?"

"Information about the underground community here in DC," Xander said.

"What do you mean?" Abby asked, not sure what was going on.

"You know that there are people who look on the dark side of life out there who are not so . . . . exuberant as yourself," Ziva began. "We need to know who out there is much harder than you."

"How hard are you talking?" Abby asked mildly pissed at the direction the conversation was going.

"Hard enough to drain the blood of a dead man," Xander said. "You know that there are folks out there like that," he continued. "Now I understand if you're not comfortable with telling us who, but we really need to know where."

Abby thought about it for a moment or two, then looked at the two standing in front of her. "There's a place on L Street in Baltimore, it's an old slaughterhouse that was shut down due to Mad Cow disease. Anyone from around here who's hard core, that's where you'd find em."

"Thank you Abby," Ziva said and Xander nodded. As they were headed towards the elevator, Xander turned to Ziva and said, "this is not gonna be fun."

"What do you mean?"

"The kind of kids you find at places like that, a lot of em would cop to the charge just to get a few nights in jail."

"Why?" Ziva asked, thoroughly confused.

"Because it's better than where they're living now," was the reply.

"Then we only go in when we have a name and a picture."

"That would make it easier, how do we narrow it down?"

"The way I see it we've got two pools of suspects," Ziva began. "There are the people like we met in Chicago, you know the crazies who believe in magic. And then there are the people who would have access to the types of machines that could be used to drain a man's blood. Morticians, assistants to morticians, we might even want to check on line to see how easily those things are available. Once we narrow down the pool of suspects, then we can search for someone specific, not just look around and hope we find the right person."

"Fair enough," Xander said. "So I assume I'd get the Wiccan's and such, since I'm familiar with a lot of them in the area."

"Not so fast," Ziva said with a grin. "How about we flip for it," she pulled out a quarter. "Heads and I call the magic people; tails and you do it."

Xander just shrugged, it was a fifty/fifty proposition; "Sure."

Ziva flipped the coin, and it came up heads; that little trick she'd learned in Monte Carlo had just paid off again. "So could you give me that phone list please?"

Xander just nodded, sure that this was going to end badly.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

Xander soon discovered that Morticians really were creepy; even Jimmy's future father in law was a little squicky for Xander's taste. The good news was that he was compiling a list of names; assistants who might be disgruntles or a little too into their work, that kind of thing, not to mention he morticians themselves. He was also waiting for three different medical supply companies to return his calls about purchases of the kind of machine necessary to remove the blood from a person.

In his heart he knew that all of this was futile, since he knew that a vampire had drained the dead Corporal; but he had to go through the motions or Ziva would get even more suspicious than she already was. What was really worrying Xander was what Ziva would learn from the local magical community. He wished that there was some way he could distract her or turn her interest another direction but he knew that like Gibbs; she was relentless once she got a whiff of something interesting. So Xander sat there and spun his wheels talking about creepy stuff with creepy people and finding out what worked best when it came to removing blood from a body; all the while praying that the woman he worked with, and was really starting to care about, didn't get a whiff of something that would change things permanently. Deep down, where it counted; he knew he was screwed.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

Ziva knew that she was on to something after the first call; the problem was she wasn't sure exactly what it was that she was on too.

"Athena's House, your place for knowledge, how can I help you?" the perky voice asked.

"My name is Ziva David; I'm an investigator with NCIS. Could you answer a few questions for me?"

"NCIS, what's that?"

"Naval Criminal Investigative Service," Ziva replied.

"What's going on?"

"There was a murder in Washington last night, and the victim had his blood drained, I was wondering if you had any idea as to who would do such a thing or why?"

"Why call us?" the voice asked.

"Because you deal in . . . . magical supplies and someone might seek to sell you something like blood for use in your . . . . rituals," Ziva was almost stumbling over the words because they were so absurd. She tried to remember why she had rigged the coin toss and then looked over to see the expression on Xander's face as he talked to yet another mortician and the reason came back to her.

"We would never buy blood, that's only used in dark rituals and we avoid those," the voice had lost its perkiness and was now much more serious.

"Could you tell me who might be interested in purchasing something like that?"

"Buying blood," the voice now sounded like it was going to be sick. "The only place that might do that would be Moloch's, they deal in the dark side of things, but that sounds too extreme, even for them; besides most rituals require either the caster's own blood or for it to be fresh, there really isn't much use for old blood." There was a pause and the young woman continued, "There's a guy, I heard he was in town that might help you."

"And who would that be," Ziva asked, intrigued.

"His name is Alexander Harris, he goes by Xander though; this is kind of his area of expertise. I don't have his direct line, but if you call the Calendar School for Girls, they can get you in touch with him."

"Thanks, I would appreciate that," Ziva said, her gaze fixed on her teammate. She took the number and hung up.

The other places that she called were pretty similar. Most of them dropped Xander's name without prompting while others enthusiastically endorsed the man when Ziva mentioned his name. It was the last call that intrigued Ziva the most though. After she explained the situation the man on the phone laughed.

"It just sounds like one of them saw an opportunity," he said cryptically

"One of who?" Ziva pounced.

There was silence on the line and finally the man said, "If you really don't know then you need to walk away from this one Agent David and let the professionals handle it."

Ziva was surprised as the serious tone in the man's voice. "Professionals like whom?" she asked, bristling a bit.

"There's several locals who could take care of the problem, but if you can find him; there's this guy who's been in town for a while and is one of the best."

"Alexander Harris," Ziva ventured.

"You've heard of him?"

"Someone else mentioned him," she replied.

"Well, if you can find him, then let him handle it and then forget you ever saw him."

"Why?" Ziva was surprised at what the man had said.

"Because he attracts danger the way a lightning rod attracts lightning. It's best to not be around him when the danger finally hits, that's an easy way to the grave."

"Thank you, I'll keep that in mind," Ziva answered and hung up. She looked over at her current partner and wondered just what everyone had been talking about. There was a pattern here and she just couldn't see it yet and she had the nagging feeling that she really needed to see it before it was too late. She was trying to put some of the pieces together when her phone rang, "Ziva David," she answered.

"Ziva," Abby's voice came blasting out of the phone. "I've got some really weird news for you."

"And what is that?"

"That fingerprint that Ducky lifted from Corporal Stevens' jaw, we got a hit on it."

"Excellent; and what is the name?"

"Sergeant Mike Tines, United States Army."

Ziva wrote the name down. "So what is weird?"

"According to the records, he died fifteen years ago," Abby replied, breathlessly.

"That is indeed strange," Ziva replied. "Thank you Abby," she concluded and hung up. She looked over at Alexander again, wondering what it was that she didn't know about her friend.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"So how did your day go," Xander asked.

Tim just looked at him and sighed, "it was both productive and frustrating."

The four of them were sitting at the Founding Father's drinking and sharing a plate of Nacho's as they caught each other up on the investigation. As an answer, Tim just showed a picture he'd taken of a strikingly top heavy woman.

"Is that the wife," Ziva asked.

"Ohhhh yeah," DiNozzo replied with a smirk and instantly Ziva and Xander knew why Tim had been so frustrated. "It turns out that while the hubby was away on his first deployment, she decided to have a little work done; to surprise him when he came home you see. Anyway, she got tired of waiting and decided to take things for a test drive before he got home, just to make sure everything was operating normally you understand."

"Let me guess," Xander broke in. "She liked the attention and decided to work out all of her little itches before he got home. He comes home and everything is peachy, but when he goes away again she misses the attention and starts keeping company again."

"Worse than that," McGee cut in. "She decided to supplement her income."

Xander just put his face in his hands, seeing where this was going.

"So she became a prostitute?" Ziva exclaimed, silencing the bar with her outburst.

"I believe the proper term is escort," Tony replied with a bit of a grin at seeing Ziva getting so worked up.

"So the husband comes home and finds out?" Xander asked, looking to head off yet another Ziva/Tony argument.

"Nope," Tim replied with a grimace. "He found out over there and came home looking for answers."

"How did he find out while in Afghanistan?" Ziva asked.

"She was advertising on the internet, wasn't she?" Xander asked.

"Yes she was," Tony answered. "She also did a couple of strip and pose movies but the web ad is what the Corporal saw."

"So he comes back looking for a client list and she actually gave it up?" Xander asked, now incredulous. "What did she think was going to happen?"

"Exactly what she wanted, or so Gibbs supposes," Tony answered. "Look at it from her point of view. She has a fun new life and wants her husband out of the picture, but still wants his income to spend and all the little perks that go with being a soldier's wife. So she gives her enraged husband the list and one of two things will happen, he gets killed or he kills someone; either way he's not her problem any more and she ends up in clover."

"What a piece of work," Xander chimed in.

"That is disgusting," Ziva added.

"Disgusting or not, she's got a good chance of pulling it off," Tim said only to be glared at by both Xander and Ziva.

"So what about your investigation there probie," Tony asked Xander.

"Well I've been talking to creepy people and Ziva's been talking to the fringe elements of society trying to find someone who opportunistically drains the blood from the dead or dying."

"It sounds insane when you put it that way," Ziva grumped.

"Yeah, maybe you should start looking for vampires," Tim joked; knowing that vampires were a sore spot for Tony. Ziva, however; happened to be looking at Xander when the suggestion was made and saw a brief flash of fear on Xander's face. Not fear of the subject, it seemed to her, but rather a fear of the topic itself. As Xander joked, "Yeah DiNozzo, why don't you go put out a BOLO on Dracula;" she was thinking about the oddities both of this case and of Xander himself. What she had learned in Chicago and from her father, Xander's knowledge of unusual and arcane subjects, his skills, attitude and weapons; and this case, the two punctures, the draining of the blood, the fingerprint from someone long dead, all of this was leading her in one clear direction. The obvious flaw in this was, of course, the fact that vampires do not exist and for Ziva that was a tough nut to crack. Until she realized that her 'fact' was indeed an assumption.

All of her life there had been many things that Ziva had considered facts which were shown to be assumptions; usually after they caused her some sort of problem, so if she changed her outlook a bit and accepted the hypothesis that vampires could indeed exist then both the case and the man she was beginning to care about made a lot more sense. She was following the banter automatically as she considered all of this and tried to work out a course of action. Being true to herself, she settled on the direct one.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

As Ziva watched Tim and Tony head for their respective cars, Ziva turned to Xander who was zipping up his motorcycle jacket, and asked the question that she had settled upon. "Xander, do vampires exist?"

The look on his face told her all that she needed to know. There were a cascade of emotions but the one that overwhelmed the others was fear. It was the same fear that she had seen before but this time she could tell that it was fear for her not of her or even fear of the topic.

"If I told you that you would be a lot happier and sleep a lot easier if you forgot that you had ever asked that question, would you forget?" he asked.

"No," she answered simply.

His eye closed and he gave a resigned sigh, he had known what the answer would be, but he had needed to ask anyway. "Come on back to my place and we'll talk," he said finally.

"Why there," she asked, confused.

"Because your question is gonna take a lot more answer than you imagine and I'd rather not do that here on a sidewalk."

Ziva just nodded, surprised at his answer. It suggested that there was even more going on in the shadows than she had supposed. He turned away and headed for his bike and for the first time Ziva saw him slump over as though there were now a great weight on him that hadn't been there before. Or maybe she just hadn't seen it before. Regardless, tonight was going to be life changing, that much she knew already


	22. Nights pt 2

Nights, pt. 2

As Ziva followed Xander through Washington's evening traffic, she started to wonder just exactly what she was getting herself into and even briefly wondered if she might be in over her head. What caused the most worry was the obvious fact that her father had no inkling that vampires existed or if he did, it was information that he hadn't shared; it was hard to say which option was more troubling. It was clear from Xander's reaction that he was afraid for her and for an instant she thought that it was because she was a woman, but then she recalled that his fiancé had been a part of the same organization, one that supposedly fought vampires, and it wasn't the fact that she was female that caused him fear.

Then it hit her, his fiancé, it was possible, probable even; that the reason for his concern was that she would die, just as Faith had. If that were the case, it was an indication that he was beginning to think of her as something more than friends; this thought briefly gave her a warm feeling inside but she quickly dismissed it.

Ziva's roaming thoughts ended as she followed him into his driveway. It struck her as funny that his motorcycle was probably just as heavy as her car; it was certainly as long as her Mini.

"Are you still sure you want to cross that line?" he asked as she got out of her car.

"I am," she replied. From his reaction it was clear that he had expected that answer but it was also clear that he had been hoping she would change her mind. She followed him in and went to sit down in the front room as he wandered into the kitchen.

"You want anything to drink?" he asked. "This won't be a quick talk."

"Just water is fine," she called back. While she was waiting, Ziva turned to look at the books lining the far wall. There was a heavy emphasis on military manuals and military history but what literature was there was much more esoteric; Lovecraft, Poe and King dominated the fiction titles. She turned back around as he entered, he silently handed her the water and she sat down. Once settled she reflexively sniffed her water before taking a drink.

"It was tempting, you know," he stated.

"What was?"

"Slipping something in your water that would knock you out and give you a bit of amnesia so I would have a chance of convincing you to drop this question."

"Why didn't you?" she asked as she slowly swallowed.

"Because you're an adult and I have no right deciding what you should and should not know about if you ask. I will warn you though," he continued with a raised hand. "I will be keeping some secrets, those that are not mine to tell. And I was quite serious when I told you that you won't be sleeping well afterwards, probably not for some time. This is a knowledge that doesn't bring very much comfort and almost creates more questions than it answers. I promise that I'll tell you the complete truth, but it won't be pretty. So I'll ask you once more; are you absolutely sure that you want me to answer that question honestly?"

Ziva thought for a moment, did she really need to know this, would it be worth the pain that Xander was convinced it would cause? "I want to know," she finally replied.

"On your head it be then," Xander solemnly replied. Then he broke into one of his goofy grins, "I wish I had a British accent at times like this. The whole spiel sounds a lot more believable for some reason when you have a British accent. Alright then, the world is much older than you know and contrary to what our religions tell us, it did not start out as a paradise. For thousands of years Demons controlled this world, making it their home, their hell. Eventually humans rose up and forced them out of this dimension, this plane of existence. The last one to be banished, though; shared his blood with a human before leaving and thus the first vampire was created. Vampires are pretty close to what you see in the movies; they have to stay out of sunlight and must drink blood to live. Holy symbols repel them, holy water burns them like acid and fire, decapitation and a stake in the heart will destroy them and when they go their bodies turn to dust; it's kinda gross. Please not that I did not say you kill the things because they are already dead. There is no pulse, no circulation and no breathing; at least they don't need to breathe if they don't want to."

"Usually a vampire will feed on a person, killing them due to massive blood loss, but occasionally a vampire will turn a person, in other words make them a vampire as well. In order to do that, the vampire forces you to drink some of its blood as it is draining you. You die, but one to three days later you are reborn as a vampire. Now the creature that is created has your face and your voice and even your memories, but it isn't you. It is a demon that is wearing your body like a meat puppet; your soul, that which is essentially you, is gone."

"Now as long as there have been vampires, there have been those people who observe and fight them. Because a vampire is faster and stronger than a human, up to five times faster and stronger, it is a difficult proposition, but one that is essential to the survival of the human race; and it's fortunate that humans are tool using animals because that's how we can come out on top. The Council, the people I work for, is the primary organization in this fight."

At first Ziva could only sit there, stunned by what Xander had said. Her desire for more answers was conflicting with the voice in her head that said the young man was a thundering lunatic for even suggesting such things. The problem was that Xander radiated sincerity, it was clear to Ziva that he believed every word that he had said and that was perhaps the most frightening possibility of all. That he might be some sort of delusional religious fanatic that worshiped vampires or something crazy like that crossed her mind and was stubborn about going away. There were so many questions that she wanted to ask but the first thing that came out was, "Demons, you mean that there are more things out there beside vampires?"

"Yeah, there are," Xander replied. "Could we skip the questions till the end please?" he asked. "Otherwise I might not ever get done."

Ziva just nodded but in her mind she was making a list of questions that she wanted answered after Xander had finished, it was already kind of long.

"The whole reason I got involved in this was that my home town of Sunnydale California was built right on top of a thin spot in the dimensional barriers. Unfortunately this thin spot led to some rather unsavory dimensions, which is why it was referred to as a 'Hellmouth'. When I was sixteen, my best friend was taken by a vampire and turned, that is made into a vampire himself; and I destroyed him. After that I couldn't just sit back and do nothing. It turned out that the librarian at my school was a member of an organization that kept an eye on that kind of activity and he helped me and others learn about what was really out there and how to combat it. I did that in Sunnydale until it collapsed and then continued the fight in Africa. I was there for almost ten years when I was asked to come here and learn." He gave Ziva a hard look, "I've buried, friends, lovers, two fiancés and countless enemies, this is a fight to the death and it will be going on long after I'm in the ground." Xander finished and took a sip of water and waited for Ziva to start spouting questions, he wasn't disappointed.

"You said 'Demons', plural; meaning that there are more things than vampires out there?" Ziva asked again.

"True, although the term demons is a bit misleading. While there are some beings out there who only want to kill or destroy, but there are lots who are just like people, just with a different biology. The peaceful ones we leave alone, but the hostile ones we put down as efficiently as possible."

"How did they get here?" Ziva wondered.

"We're not really sure," Xander replied. "I said that there were thin places between dimensions. I have no doubt that some of them came through as a way of escape; I'm sure that others were summoned to be soldiers for some would be overlord and yet others were probably created."

"Created, Summoned," Ziva started. "What are you talking about?"

"Magic," Xander answered simply. "Magic is real as well."

"You are joking."

"It would be a lot simpler if I was, but I told you that I'd tell you the truth; and the truth is that magic is real." He smiled suddenly, "Doesn't your own religion talk about the construction of Golems and that kind of thing?"

Ziva sat there for a moment, her mouth open in shock. Golems were indeed a part of Jewish history and mythology but she had never equated their construction with magic. In hindsight though, it seemed kind of obvious. "Can anyone do magic?" she asked, it wasn't the most pertinent question but she suddenly needed to know.

"Yeah, but it's like art in a way," Xander replied. "Everyone can do a paint by numbers if you've got the patience for that, but there aren't that many Rembrandts out there."

"So there are simple things that anyone can do, but most things take a lot of talent," Ziva summarized.

"Exactly."

"And do you have this talent?"

"Nope," Xander answered with a grin. "I'm about the most non-magical person you'll ever come across; but I know lots of people who are insanely magical."

"The red head for example?" Ziva asked with a smirk.

"Who?"

"From the posters," Ziva clarified. "I assume that the Sage is your librarian and the others are people who worked with you. The red-head in the poster was identified as the 'Mage', which means magic user. Considering that enough notice of her was taken to actually label her as a magic user suggests that she was quite powerful." Ziva peered at him, "Is she?"

"Powerful enough to alter reality if she has to," Xander answered finally. "And there are a few others out there who are more than strong enough to open portals to other dimensions these days, so I doubt it was any different in the past."

"And you think that these people just randomly pulled creatures here from other dimensions?" Ziva asked incredulously.

"I wouldn't say random, but that's one theory, yeah," Xander replied. "There's also the possibility that they brought themselves here to escape or because there's more food here or something like that. We don't worry so much about how they got here, we just deal with the fact that they are here."

Ziva just nodded at that; it was a practical approach and practicality was something she understood. "So let me summarize," she began. "You work for an organization that monitors and attempts to control beings from other dimensions that live here with humans. In the course of this job you hunt down and destroy hostile beings with no repercussions whatsoever."

"Well, unless you count the fact that they try to do the same to us; then yeah, you've got it?"

"And why have I never seen one of these visitors," Ziva asked a bit smugly.

"You probably have and didn't even know it," Xander replied. "You take your car to one of those instant oil change places, don't you?"

"Yes."

"You ever see the guy who works in the pit, down below your car?"

"No."

"Ever met someone who works in the sewers or at a junk yard or county dump?"

"No," Ziva replied again, seeing where this was going. "So you are saying that these creatures work in places where they don't come in to regular contact with most people."

"Sure and even if someone saw one of them, what are they going to say. Think about it Ziva; if you went into Vance's office and said that the guy changing the oil on your car had snakes for hair and four arms, what would happen. Or even if you told Gibbs, or DiNozzo, what would they say?" Xander paused, "What would they do?"

"They would assume that I was working too hard and give me leave."

"And if you still insisted that you saw what you saw?" Xander pressed the subject.

"Psyche eval and probably dismissal," Ziva reluctantly replied.

"And now you know why they can exist on the fringes of our society," Xander replied. "Anyone who says what they've seen is dismissed as a crackpot and the world turns on in blissful ignorance. But the knowledge is out there if you know where to look for it."

Ziva looked at the man across from her and considered everything that he'd said. The story that he had spun had answered a lot of the questions that she'd had, but it was just that, a story. She had no way to verify anything that he'd told her. I don't suppose you have any proof to back up what you've told me," she blurted out.

"You want real, concrete proof?" Xander asked. "Are you sure about that?"

"I am," Ziva replied confidently, thinking that she had called the Xander out on his story.

"Okay then," he replied, a wicked grin blooming on his face. "Let's take a field trip."

The smile on his face filled Ziva with foreboding; she admitted to herself that calling Xander out might not have been the smartest move she could have made.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

They had taken Ziva's car and had parked near Georgetown University, just south of McArthur Blvd; it was a slightly seedy section on the Potomac. As they got out of the car, Xander handed Ziva the motorcycle jacket she usually wore. "It's loaded up now," he said.

"Meaning what," Ziva demanded.

"Check for yourself," he answered with a smirk.

Ziva checked the pockets and found two vials labeled 'Holy Water', a rather large Star of David and two wooden knives. Ziva was surprised at the edge that both knives managed to hold despite what they were made of. "What is all this for?"

"This is just in case," Xander replied. "These places are Okay for the most part, and the better ones have antiviolence wards on them, but you're always gonna have an idiot or two who will want to cause trouble, wards or not." Here he faced Ziva with a look on his face that was one of the more serious she'd ever seen on his face. "I need you to promise me that you won't do anything unless I tell you to. Don't say anything and really don't flash your NCIS badge or pull your Sig, as far as anyone knows, you're just my trainee, got it?"

Ziva just nodded, realizing that this was Xander's arena and not hers. Ziva admitted to herself that she would be saying much the same thing if she were taking him somewhere to meet with a Hamas agent or the like. They started walking; Ziva's head was constantly on the move, evaluating the possible threats when Xander just stopped. Ziva looked around confused, she didn't see anything dangerous. "Why are we stopping?" she asked.

"Because we're here," he replied blandly.

Ziva looked around but she didn't see anything that looked like the entrance to a bar. "Where, I don't see anything?"

"You don't see the door right there?" he asked with some confusion, pointing at the wall of an old building.

"I just see a wall," she replied honestly. She heard Xander mutter something about psycho priests and then he walked towards the wall. Ziva goggled as a door suddenly appeared in what she would have sworn was a blank wall. It was a fairly solid looking door with a simple sign above it that said 'You Were Never Here'.

"That is ominous," Ziva observed.

"The demons think its funny," Xander replied. "The place like this in Sunnydale was called the 'Alibi Room'."

Ziva just nodded and then tried not to flinch as Xander opened the door and ushered her into a room that made her want to scream, faint and pull her gun and start shooting all at the same time. She saw creatures with horns, ones that dripped some sort of slime and even those with horns that dripped slime. Everywhere Ziva looked there was something more bizarre, she was almost afraid that her eyes would fall out of her head. Absently she followed Xander over to the bar trying to look everywhere at once.

For his part, Xander was trying to hide a smirk at Ziva's behavior as he headed for the bar. There was one thing they needed to get done while they were there. "Danny, how's it going?" he asked.

"Quiet," was the terse reply. "What's with the chick?"

"Trainee," Xander replied with a smirk. "She's currently having her world turned upside down."

"Looks that way," Danny observed casually. "What do you need?" He knew that Xander would not come here on a whim.

"We're looking for someone, a vamp," here he turned to Ziva. "What was the name Abby gave us?"

Ziva heard the question and shook herself to try and clear her mind. She turned to Xander and he saw lucidity return to her features. "Mike Tines, he's been dead for fifteen years," she replied somewhat mechanically.

"Marines, right?" Xander asked.

Ziva started to say that he'd been in the Army when an angry voice in the bar spoke over her. "Army you jerkoff."

Xander turned with a lazy grin. "Front and center there grunt," he called out.

Ziva watched as an angry looking man bulled his way up to the bar and stood over Xander and herself. "What the hell do you want, Watcher?" he spat out.

"You Mikey," Xander replied with an impudent grin.

"What do you want with me little man," he sneered.

"You screwed up and now I've got to cover it," Xander replied calmly. Before the vampire could say anything, Xander continued. "You drained a dead guy last night, which isn't a big deal, but the guy was a Marine and you left a fingerprint behind; and that is a big deal. Because now, NCIS is looking for a dead soldier who is somehow still out there either killing people or at least draining their blood. Now these folks don't know about what goes on in the dark so they're probably thinking that you faked your death and are in some black ops group, but even so, it won't be long before they start flashing your picture around and I'd be willing to bet that you haven't been keeping a low profile. So you can stay and end up either staked or captured. And if you're captured then you'll get to see if they really shut down the Initiative when everything went to hell in Sunnydale or if they've still got it going somewhere. You looking forward to spending the next fifty plus years as a lab rat?"

"What's my other option," he rumbled.

"You clear out now and let us get this under control," Xander said. "Go somewhere you've never been before an lay low for a while so we don't have to explain why evidence from you keeps showing up every other week."

Suddenly the vampire shifted to game face and darted forward, grabbing Xander by the lapels of his Greatcoat and lifting him up. "And what if I don't want to leave?"

As soon as she saw the large man move, Ziva went for her gun, despite what Xander had told her. Even as she was reaching, though; she was marveling at the speed and strength of the creature as well as the physical changes it exhibited, the ridges, the eyes and of course; the fangs.

Xander just hung there in the vampire's grasp, a small smile on his face. "Look down," he said quietly.

The former Mike Tines looked down and saw a small tube with a tiny flickering flame; he shifted back to human appearance in his confusion.

"That is a portable blowtorch," Xander offered. "Just ten bucks at Home Depot; and if you don't let go of me in the next ten seconds, I'll flash fry your dumb ass starting with your balls, you got that you moron?" Xander's glance flickered to Ziva briefly, "Or I could just let the trainee give you a nine millimeter lobotomy right here and now and then she gets to dust her first vampire." His eyes bored into the vampire's, "It's your choice."

The vampire set Xander back onto the floor very gently, all the while his attention was focused on the gun aimed at his head and the torch aimed at his balls. "Who are you?" the bloodsucker asked, finally tripping to the fact that these two weren't your normal blood bags.

"That the Paladin you moron," one of the demons told the vamp in a stage whisper.

The vampire's eyes got huge as he realized just who he was messing with. "No hard feelings," he asked with something that was probably meant to be a smile, but just made the guy look like he had gas.

"Not a problem," Xander replied, blowing out the pilot light on the torch and putting it away in his voluminous coat.

"And I should go somewhere new and lay low til everything blows over?"

"I think that would be best," Xander replied sincerely.

The creature looked back over its shoulder, obviously seeking advice from something that was still sitting down. As soon as it turned its head, Ziva watched as Xander's left hand came out of his coat's pocket and made a pass near a pocket of the jacket the vampire was wearing. If she had to testify in court, Ziva would not be able to swear that she had seen something, but she knew that Xander had just done something that she would be asking about later. It turned back to Xander and gave a sickly smile, "I guess I'll be leaving."

"One question before you go," Ziva spoke up after finally holstering her weapon.

"Yeah?"

"Did you happen to see who shot the man you drained?"

"Nah, heard two guys arguing, couldn't tell about what, the music was too loud. Then I heard the gunshots so I eased my way out to the exit and found the guy dead and I figured, free meal, so I drained him and headed home."

"Thanks," Xander said, with a pointed look at the exit. The vampire didn't say anything; it just made its way out the door with the world's worst casual walk.

Xander just turned back to the bar and ordered a Coke, "You want anything," he asked Ziva.

"Coke is fine," she replied and then listened as he chatted with the bartender for a couple of minutes. They were then joined by something that just had too many joints for Ziva's taste but it knew weapons like very few she'd met. The three of them spent an enjoyable half hour discussing the pros and cons of various hand guns.

They made their goodbyes and left. Once they were out the door, Ziva asked, "What was that you put in his pocket?"

"Radio tracker," Xander answered simply.

"Someone else is going to track it down and destroy it?" Ziva asked.

"Yep," was only reply. He then pulled out his phone and hit a speed dial; Ziva did not see which one. As soon as the other side picked up Xander said, "Tracker one is active, find and eliminate." After a terse acknowledgement he shut his phone with an abrupt snap.

"That just doesn't seem right," Ziva murmured.

"That thing we just met probably has more kills in the last six months than you do in your entire life," Xander growled. "It is a soulless killing machine," he turned to face her. "Think of it as a shark with legs if you have to, because that's essentially what it is." He turned back towards the car, "I'm not gonna lose any sleep over its ultimate demise, and neither should you," Xander told the Israeli.

Ziva just nodded, but knew that tonight, sleep would be difficult.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

The car ride had been silent, and even Ziva's driving had been toned down. As they pulled up in front of Xander's house, he said, "You could spend the night here if you want." At a rather scathing look from Ziva he continued, "I'm just talking about sleeping, I'd be on the couch or whatever."

"Why?"

"Some people need a bit of security after they've learned about what's really out there so I thought I'd ask."

Ziva thought this over for a moment or two, "No thank you," she said finally. "I will see you tomorrow," she concluded and drove off. Her sleep was not easy that night, but what kept her up the most wasn't the different creatures that she'd seen, but how ruthlessly Xander had dealt with the vampire. She was beginning to understand just how dangerous he could be.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The next day was a bit odd for the two as they went around questioning the morgue assistants, morticians and other associated creepers on their list of suspects. As they were heading out for the first interview Ziva asked, "Why are we doing this?" She turned to look at Xander. "We know who drained his blood and that threat has been eliminated so why continue the charade of searching for the guilty party?"

"You want to bet that Gibbs wouldn't see through that in a second?" Xander replied. "Besides, we just might flush out someone who's guilty of something while we're doing this."

"I suppose," Ziva said resignedly; there was silence as she wove through the DC traffic. When she was finally caught by a red light Xander spoke up again; "Tonight, a basic course on vampires if you're up for it."

Ziva looked over at the man, part of her wanted to just tell him that she had no interest in anything he had to say on the subject but she knew that there was no way she'd be able to go back to the way it was before last night and having all the information possible was important. There was also a little nagging voice in the back of her mind that kept reminding her that Xander had given her plenty of chances to walk away before she'd had her world altered forever. "Fine," she snapped out. "Is there somewhere you want to meet?"

"How about the diner at seven and we'll go from there?"

Ziva just nodded as the light had turned green.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

The two of them got back to NCIS just in time to see the others walking to the observation room; realizing that something was up, they followed.

"What have you got Tony?" Ziva asked.

"Billy Adamson, twenty seven from Richmond," DiNozzo replied. "He was on the client list, from the money he paid over he really liked the services provided and he's got a history of assault." Tony looked at them both, "either of you got anything?"

"Two probable cases of necrophilia and one guy so creepy that he should be arrested on general principles, but nothing pertinent to the case," Xander replied.

"Sucks to be you two," Tim observed as Gibbs walked into the interrogation room.

Both Ziva and Xander just nodded and stood back to watch Gibbs work on the mook. It was about ten minutes into it and Xander had already filled a page with lines to use the next time he was interrogating someone when DiNozzo's phone rang. "DiNozzo," he answered quietly.

"…."

"You're kidding me?"

"….."

"Do we have a warrant for that?"

"…."

"Fine, I'll tell Gibbs," he shut his phone with a snap.

"What is it?" McGee asked.

"Whoever the husband fought has VD," Tony replied. "Specifically; Syphilis."

"Well who's gonna interrupt Gibbs?" Tim asked with a bit of trepidation.

"I'll do it," Xander said when it looked like things were gonna devolve into a rock/paper/scissors contest.

"You're a better man that I Gunga Din," Tony fired off.

"I know," Xander replied with a smirk. He took the two steps to the door of the interrogation room and knocked once before leaning in. "Boss," he said.

"What is it Harris?"

"There's something you need to know sir," Xander replied and jerked his head at the window.

"Fine, you keep an eye on this guy," Gibbs snarled and tore out of the room.

"So who are you supposed to be, the good cop," the scumbag asked.

"Nope," Xander replied simply. "I'm the cop that's gonna shoot your kneecaps into a million pieces if you don't just sit there and shut up." He said this while giving the suspect his best Hannibal Lecter look of indifference while keeping his voice even. It worked to shut the guy up and Xander happily stood there, waiting for Gibbs.

The man in question came tearing back into interrogation and walked right up to the suspect, "We need some of your blood."

"What the hell for?" Adamson asked and started to stand up, but Xander just pushed him back down.

"The guy Stevens fought had Syphilis," Gibbs replied. "If you've got it, then we've got a good chance of putting you away for murder; if not then you're a dirt bag, but a free dirt bag."

"What if I say no?" Adamson asked.

"Then I accidentally trip," here Xander made air quotes, "and slam your head into the table. Then as I apologize for my clumsiness, we get your blood sample while we help you clean up because we can do that legally once your blood is outside your body."

Adamson looked back and forth from Harris to Gibbs and soon enough figured out that he'd be giving blood one way or the other. "Sure, take a sample," he said while sticking out his arm. Gibbs arranged to do just that as Xander quietly slipped out of the room. He ran into Ziva in the hallway. "I'm gonna go home and get ready for tonight," he looked her up and down. "I'd suggest changing into something you don't mind getting ruined, tonight's gonna be messy."

Ziva just nodded as the one eyed man walked away. She wondered again just how deep this rabbit hole really was.


	23. Nights pt 3

Nights pt. 3

After it was all over, Ziva would not have been able to tell you what she ate that night. She knew that she had eaten. She'd met Xander at the diner and they'd even managed to have a pleasant conversation; mainly touching on humorous subjects like DiNozzo's foibles and Xander's encounters with Africa's wildlife. But most of her focus had been on what she'd already learned and speculating about what would happen tonight. It had surprised her, how much information was out there about Demons, Vampires and Watchers; three subjects that she was now intensely interested in.

What truly surprised her were the number of sites devoted solely to Xander, if you knew what to search for. Googling Alexander Harris produced only the basics, and not very much of that but search under 'The Paladin' or 'The One Who Sees' and you'd be reading for days. The thing was; that despite all the information that was out there, Ziva got the distinct impression that there was something that was being deliberately left out and she felt that it was important. Scratch that, she knew that it was important. She wanted desperately to ask all of the questions that had occurred to her, but she knew that this was neither the time nor the place so she ate and chatted all the while waiting for the proper time and place.

It was about eight when Xander looked around, almost as a reflex and leaned forward. You ready for round two?"

Ziva just nodded impatiently and stood up. Heeding Xander's advice, she was wearing yoga pants that let her move freely and her combat boots. Up top she was wearing a long sleeved knit shirt with a hoodie and a down vest over it. A little orange knit cap completed the picture. As they left the diner Xander said, "Why don't we take my bike, it's a little more indestructible than your Mini."

"As long as McGee isn't driving it," Ziva replied with a grin.

"Touche," Xander replied with a grin.

They headed up 16th Street which turned into Georgia Avenue, passed the beltway and left DC behind, eventually reaching Rockville Maryland. As they slowed down, Ziva saw a sign that said "St. Mary's Parish Cemetery". "Why are we here?" she asked as soon as Xander had turned the bike off.

"Yesterday you had a little 'sympathy for the vampire' vibe going on and that's a quick ticket to an early grave, so we're here to cure you of that."

"Here?"

"You go to where the vampires are," Xander replied. "Tines had had fifteen years to assimilate into human society to adapt in other words so he could easily pass as a normal human. Tonight you're gonna see a vampire that neither knows nor cares about adapting or fitting in." He turned to face her; the lines of his face were grim. "This is gonna be dangerous, so if you want to call it a night, I'll happily take you back to DC right here and now."

Ziva thought about it, and honestly a good part of her head was telling her to get the hell out of there right now, but she'd come too far already to go back and she suspected that Xander knew that, even if he was asking her to do just that. "No," she finally said. "I'm in too deep already."

Xander just sighed and briefly rubbed around his patch, "Then here is where we need to be." He gave her a wan smile and headed towards the new section of the cemetery. Ziva quickly followed. She followed Xander for a couple of minutes and then stopped short when she saw that there were other people already there. The fact that she recognized them was a surprise but the icing on the cake was that one of them was Xander's daughter, Maria.

"Hello Ziva," she said after greeting her father. "I believe you already know Katya and Millie," she said as she gestured at the other two girls there.

Ziva remembered them as girls she'd seen at Xander's from time to time. Millie was Australian, bubbly and talked constantly while Katya was from the Ukraine and had a quietly regal demeanor. When she'd seen them, Xander had explained that they worked at a girl's school his employers sponsored she could now see that there was a lot more to it than that. She turned back to Xander, her eyes flashing. "There are going to be vampires here tonight and you brought them here as well, are you insane?"

"Ziva," Xander began gently. "There are still parts to this that you don't know yet. It will all be explained tonight, I promise." He looked around, "In the meantime, how's school treating you ladies," he asked Millie and Katya.

As he talked to the two of them, one thing became clear to Ziva. One was that they adored him. She wasn't sure what the dynamic was, it wasn't quite parent child but was certainly more than co-worker. The other was that as much as they cared for him, he cared more for them. It was clear in his stance, the tone of his voice, a million different tells let her know that these two were people he cared about. As they stood there though, Ziva started to get impatient, wondering what it was that they were waiting for. She was about to say something when Maria walked over to her. "It should be soon," the girl said.

"What should be?"

"The vampire, it should rise soon," Maria replied.

"We're here so that I can see a vampire rise?" Ziva asked.

"No," Maria replied. "We're here so that you can try your hand at fighting one."

"What?" Ziva asked, incredulous.

"Papa thought that you should truly know what's out there and you wouldn't understand until you fought a vampire."

"And why didn't he tell me this?" Ziva wondered.

"Papa is a man, and you know how they are," Maria commiserated.

"Besides, would you have come if I'd told you the reason?" Xander asked, cutting into the conversation.

"And what if I do not wish to do this?" Ziva fired at him.

"Then you don't do it, you just watch it done because it's something that I believe you should experience live and in person," Xander replied reasonably.

Ziva cooled down a little bit at this but was still plenty steamed at Xander. "I have come this far," she said. "I may as well finish the journey."

"Okay then," Xander told her. "The only rule is 'no guns', we don't want to attract any attention to ourselves." He peered closely at Ziva, "You got the stakes and holy water and the wooden knives?"

"Yes to all," Ziva said, patting herself down to check.

"It is time," Maria suddenly intoned and the three girls and Xander arranged themselves around the grave. Seeing this, Ziva soon joined them, pulling a wooden knife as she did so. The change in the other four was remarkable, Ziva noticed. Xander was no longer the amiable joker that he had been, but was now focused with an almost laser like intensity. The three girls stopped being girls and had assumed the demeanor of battle hardened veterans; a transformation that gave Ziva pause. But thoughts on that were cut off when she noticed that there was a hand working its way out of the fresh grave in front of her. She recoiled a bit, an instinctive human response to something so unnatural but she quickly regained her composure. The hand was followed by an arm, then a shoulder and finally the head appeared. Once that happened, the creature seemed to pull itself completely out of the ground in one movement, almost seeming to materialize on top of the grave.

It turned around and Ziva flinched back instinctively at the yellow eyes and the ridged head, what was worse though, was the complete lack of anything other than animal hunger in those eyes. Seeing one of the beings surrounding it flinch, the vampire attacked.

The attack broke Ziva out of her stupor, she managed to get her left up to deflect the blow, but it hurt. It hurt a lot more than it should. She continued to fall back blocking and feinting, doing anything she could to slow up the lightning attacks of the creature. Finally a blow got through to her gut. Ziva doubled over, winded and the creature lunged in for the kill, when suddenly it seemed to be floating. Ziva looked to see Maria holding the thing up with a Full Nelson and dragging it back to the grave. She then noticed Xander at her side. "Do you want to try again?" he asked.

Ziva stood up straight, sucking air back into her lungs. She stood there breathing and going over the fight in her mind. Now that she had time, she had analyzed the creature's pattern and believed that she could now hold her own; she turned to Xander and just nodded.

"Put these on first," Xander said and handed her two small shin guards. Ziva smiled and stripped off her jacket and fastened the guards over her forearms. Now prepared, she nodded to Maria, whose face she could see over the squirming thing's shoulder, and the girl let it go.

The fight was more even this time, but all too often Ziva found her counterattacks foiled by the creature's superior strength and speed. It ended with the vampire landing an elbow strike to Ziva's right thigh, causing the Israeli to drop to the ground. As before, when the thing went for the kill, it was pulled off and controlled by Maria. "How is she doing that?" Ziva asked Xander, who was helping her stand up. Ziva knew that the vampire was stronger and faster than a human, for Maria to be controlling it so easily told Ziva that she was missing something big.

"That's one of the things we need to talk about," Xander replied with a grim smile. "Meanwhile, are you Okay?"

"I think so," Ziva replied as she put a little weight on her hurt leg.

"You want to try again?" Xander asked.

"No, I gave it my best," here she gestured at her leg, "and now I'm not nearly mobile enough to hold my own."

"I'd disagree with that," Xander said. Then Ziva saw him turn and nod his head at Maria, who was still holding on to the vampire. Ziva saw the young woman flex her arms and was surprised to hear a loud "crack" as the neck broke. The girl released her hold and the vampire fell to the ground, obviously paralyzed.

"Do you want the honors?" Xander asked.

Ziva just shook her head as she was still trying to get her leg to work right again. She watched as Xander just darted forward, a stake appearing in his hand as if by magic and just like that, the vampire exploded into dust. Ziva looked at the three girls who were now just standing there and then turned to Xander. "How is Maria able to do what she did?" she asked.

"For as long as there have been vampires, there have been slayers," Xander replied solemnly. "Millennia ago, the world was being over-run by the demons and humans were being exterminated. To combat this threat, humanity came up with a plan. The most powerful magicians of the time got together and imbued a young girl with the strength and speed necessary to fight the demons on even terms, this was the first slayer. She fought and she died, and when she died the power left her and went into another girl so that the struggle could continue. So down through years uncounted, young women fought and died so that the rest of us might live in peace. The descendents of the magicians that created her formed a group to aid the slayer, train her and record her deeds. That eventually turned into what was known as the Watcher's Council or IWC.

"Flash forward to a few years back and we were locked in a struggle with a being that called itself the 'First Evil'; a malignant spirit that was prepared to open the hellmouth underneath Sunnydale and release an army of vampires that were extremely vicious because they were untainted by humanity. One of the things The First tried to do to insure its victory was to eliminate the slayer line by killing any girl who had the potential to become a slayer. Another was the destruction of the IWC, it was called a terrorist bombing in London, but that was the First taking out the Council. Anyway, the few Potentials that the Council knew about joined us in Sunnydale to help. Our backs were to the wall and so we came up with a plan out of desperation, we activated all of the potentials at once in an attempt to level the playing field yet again. It worked and we won; sadly at a huge cost, but now there were slayers all over the world, girls that had been missed by both the Council and the enemy. Since that time we've been working like crazy to find all the slayers, train them and form some sort of organization out of the chaos that resulted from the old Council's destruction."

"So NSWC stands for the New Slayer and Watchers Council?" Ziva asked.

"It does."

"And these three girls are slayers?"

"They are," Xander replied.

"And what does that mean, exactly?"

"That despite the fact that they are human, a slayer can go toe to toe with a vampires and demons and come out ahead. They are faster, stronger and more agile than us normal people."

"Your friend, the blond, she was a slayer as well?"

"Who?"

"The blond in the poster . . . . . The Protector, I believe?"

"Yes, she's one as well, from back when there was only one."

"Is one, you mean she's still alive?"

"The longest lived slayer in history," Xander replied with a fond grin.

Ziva thought about what she'd been told over the past two days and Xander's actions as well. "So what was the purpose of all this?" she finally asked.

"Several things," Xander replied. "First, you were getting too close to the truth, and if you'd gone out looking by yourself, you'd have ended up dead." An earnest expression grew on his face, "I care for you too much to just let that happen so I arranged yesterday and today so that you would learn what you needed to know and not end up dead or turned."

"Second, you needed to learn that not everything that's different is evil, which was the purpose of last night."

"Third, you needed to learn that vampires are in no way nice, pleasant or anything other than vicious killing machines. Sure, after a few years of interaction in the real world they can learn to fake like they're people, but underneath it all they're just amoral opportunists who would kill you whenever it was most beneficial for them to do so."

"Finally, you needed to learn that while you're hell on wheels when fighting a human, you need to learn a completely different skill set to fight vampires and other demons." He gave her a hard look, "So, lessons learned?"

Ziva just nodded then started to open her mouth.

"But you've still got a lot of questions," Xander said, cutting her off. Again she nodded and Xander continued. "Why don't we head back and you can ask me there while we make sure that there's no serious damage?"

"Fine," Ziva said and it was. There were some things that she wanted to clarify and having time to think through her questions was a good thing. She wanted to make sure that there were no rhetorical loopholes for Xander to escape from.

They were both silent on the way back to Xander's place but as they went, Xander could tell that Ziva was getting more and more upset about something because the arms around him were doing excellent imitations of Boa Constrictors and the madder she got the tighter they got. Actually he had a good idea about what was pissing her off, it wouldn't have been the first time he'd dealt with that reaction. His ribs were really starting to hurt by the time they pulled into his driveway. Ziva got off the bike in silence and followed him to the back door. A sideways glance showed him that her lips were almost pressed white in anger. 'This was gonna hurt,' he thought.

"Come on downstairs," he said as they walked into the kitchen.

Ziva was surprised but said nothing. She was moving better, the vibrations from the motorcycle seemed to have loosened her thigh up and now she was almost back to normal. Her eyes widened as she walked down the basement stairs. The entire thing had been padded, even the supports in the middle of the floor. One wall was covered in weapons and there were a few dummies stacked up under the stairs. He turned to say something and she hit him. His head snapped back as he fell, but he rode the momentum and quickly came back up to his feet; Ziva was almost happy to see that he had a split lip. "Thousands of years Xander and thousands of girls sacrificed; how could you be a part of that?" She was nearly screaming. As they'd rode back to his home, she'd thought about what had been said and what had been skillfully avoided; she'd become progressively more angry and now she was letting it out.

"You think I like that?" he yelled back. "Do you honestly think that I wouldn't trade places with any of them in a heartbeat if I could?" As he was saying this, Ziva was stripping off her jacket and not paying the best attention; Xander took advantage of this and planted a foot in her gut, winding her for the second time that night. "We had no choice but work with the system that was already in place," he yelled as Ziva finished stripping off her jacket and tried to suck air back into her lungs at the same time. Xander copied her actions while she was incapacitated and stripped down to just a shirt and pants.

"Did you even try to change it; did it ever even occur to you?" Ziva yelled as she landed a kick to his left thigh and a backfist to the left side of his head.

"Of course it did," Xander replied as he straightened up. He then blocked two wild swings of Ziva's and landed a devastating right cross that laid the woman out. Seeing his advantage he pounced on her; pining her body with his weight and holding her arms above her head so she couldn't get any leverage. He leaned in close while still being sure to stay out of the range of her teeth; "the problem was that the fate of the world literally hung in the balance. If we had tried to modify the spell there would be no way to accurately predict what would happen. We might have ended up with a dozen slayers or none. There was no way we could take that chance and so we did what we had to do and all of us have spent the last ten years making up for it." Xander pulled back a bit to look Ziva in the face as he spoke, but when he did Ziva jerked her forward and Xander felt like his face had exploded. He went flying off of her in a spray of blood.

"Empty justifications," she yelled as she copied his maneuver and pounced. Unfortunately Xander wasn't so out of it that he didn't see it coming. He coiled his legs and as Ziva jumped on him, he used his legs to send her flying over his head. She hit the wall upside down and just seemed to hand there for a couple of seconds before she peeled off and landed face down on the mats.

"Not empty justifications," Xander said as he walked over to where Ziva lay, "the plain truth." He probably would have said more but she rolled suddenly and her leg whipped up at him. He'd had his arm in position to block, anticipating such a move, but the force still knocked him off his feet. As he went down Ziva continued her move and came to her knees. Seeing Xander down, she did not hesitate to spring again. This time he wasn't able to get his legs up to deflect her and she straddled him, her hands grabbing at his shoulders. She didn't bother to speak now, her anger was beyond words.

Xander managed to get his left up in a blocking position to guard against a head butt and he planted his right in Ziva's belly. Then while bridging for leverage, Xander threw her over his head yet again. Ziva hadn't let go of Xander's shirt, so as she flew there was a sound like a loud purr and when she turned to face him, his shirt was in tatters. What she then saw made her freeze. What she could see of his chest and upper arms were covered in scars. There appeared to be hundreds of them criss-crossing his body. There were large and small and old as well as fresh; Ziva could never remember seeing someone with so many who was still alive.

Her hesitation cost her, though; because while she was absorbing the reality of Xander's scars, he hit her with a flying tackle that would have made Dick Butkus proud. His body landing on top of hers winded her yet again and allowed him time to properly lock her legs and pin her arms. He stared down into her furious face and snarled, "Are you done?"

Still Ziva didn't say anything as she was searching for some weakness in Xander's position. Seeing that she wanted to continue, Xander pulled out a desperate ploy and threw his head down at hers.

Ziva saw the blow coming and knowing that there was nothing she could do about it, closed her eyes in anticipation of the coup-de-gras. What she didn't expect was to find was Xander's lips on hers as he kissed her. At first she couldn't believe that he was actually doing that, but then she felt her body respond as she returned the kiss. She could taste him as well as the mingling blood from his split lip and the inside of her mouth as the kiss deepened. The basement was silent, except for soft moans as the passion rose in the both of them. It was obvious that her response surprised him and taking advantage of his lapse in concentration, Ziva managed to reverse their positions. Staring down into his face, she thought about all of the things she wanted to say, the accusations she wanted to make and the condemnation that she wanted to heap upon him. All that came out though was, "How dare you kiss me?"

He didn't answer in words, the look of pure defiance in his eye told her all that she needed to know. There was only one solution for this Ziva realized and so she darted in quickly and kissed him back. Ziva felt herself unwillingly melting into the kiss and she tried to pull back, but Xander's arms had locked around her and wouldn't let her go. She fought with him then, grappling and pulling as the contest turned more towards wrestling than fighting. Holds, locks and arm bars were punctuated by kisses and caresses. As things wore on, clothes were shredded and more scars were exposed, both literal and metaphorical; on both of them until there was nothing left to expose.

Afterwards, as they lay in a sweaty heap in the corner of the basement, Ziva asked, "How do you live with it?"

"When the old council was in charge," Xander replied. "The average lifespan of a slayer after she was called was just over one year, now it's over six." He turned his head to look at Ziva. "I realize that there is nothing I can do to make up for what I've done to these girls, but I also know that I can't stop trying to do it regardless. All of us do our best to make sure that these girls are loved and cared for and are never again used like disposable weapons." He closed his eye briefly, "I'd give my life for any one of them."

Ziva's finger traced one of the more prominent scars on his chest. "It looks like you've already tried, repeatedly;" she said with a smirk.

"Hey, I'm not the only one with scars," he said as he swatted playfully at her hand.

"True," Ziva replied. "But most of mine are on the inside."

"We've all got scars on the inside," Xander replied, pulling her close. After a few minutes he murmured, "We really should get to bed."

There was silence and then Ziva replied dazedly, "Why is Gibbs dancing the tango on the ceiling?" After that, silence reigned in the basement for the rest of the night.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Tony looked up as the elevator chimed, he then did a double take as he actually got good look at Ziva and Xander. She looked tired and there were huge bruises on forearms as well as her chin and her stiff walk told of bruises elsewhere. As for Xander, he was moving okay, a little stiff but okay;however, he had a split lip and a black eye. "What the hell happened to you two?" DiNozzo asked.

"This case is frustrating as hell," Xander replied. "After dinner we decided to have a good spar to work off some of the frustration and things kinda got out of hand."

"I can see that," Tony replied.

"So how's it going," Xander asked as Ziva seemed indifferent to the world at the moment.

"Gibbs got the client list out of the wife and now McGee's running through the list to see who on it visited their local clinic lately for a shot of love." Tony looked over as Ziva sat down with a groan but didn't say anything.

"You realize that the wife might have been generous with it?" Xander asked, carrying the metaphor.

"Yeah, but at least we'll have narrowed the list down a bit."

"True enough," Xander replied, sitting himself.

"So what's got both of you on edge?"

"Its just that there are so many factors in this case and every time you narrow it down one way it expands in another." Xander gave a sigh of exasperation, "We've uncovered a couple of perverts and a theft ring but we're no closer to figuring out who drained this poor bastard." Xander laughed, "Maybe we really should consider vampires as well."

Tony gave a shudder and Ziva snorted a laugh, the first one Xander had managed to get out of her, and then things settled down to taking a closer look at what they'd gathered while they waited for McGee's searches to do their magic. About five minutes later he came bustling up from Abby's lab, "We've got two possible," he called out. Everyone gathered around the screen; both McGee and Gibbs gave Ziva and Xander a surprised look but neither said anything.

"Now according to Ducky," McGee began. "The blood on Steven's knuckles showed that the Syphilis was dying off, meaning it had been treated so we checked all the local clinics to see who'd been treated for VD lately and cross referenced it with the list of men that Mrs. Stevens . . . . . . entertained." He glanced over at Gibbs who was starting to look exasperated, "We got two names, a William Tisdale, currently living in Bethesda and John Mahalick who lives in Alexandria. Both were Marines and both did a tour with Stevens."

"That's cold," Xander noted, thinking about how they'd betrayed a buddy.

"I've got their work addresses right here," Tim concluded.

"DiNozzo, you're with me; we'll go get Tisdale." He turned, "Ziva, you and Harris bring in Mahalick," he said as he walked into the elevator. "McGee, you get me everything you can on these two."

"On it boss," McGee called out.

Xander and Ziva walked to the elevator, both moving a bit gingerly. Grinning, Xander dangled the keys in front of her. Ziva snatched them out of his hand and smiled back, then gave him an elbow in the side for good measure.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

"Are you Okay?" Xander asked once they were on the road.

"Better," Ziva answered tersely. "Whatever you gave me this morning is working quite well."

"It's something I picked up in Africa." He shot her a grin, "Just don't ask what's in it."

"Why not?"

"Because you really don't want to know," he said as he turned his attention back to the road. "You alright with what happened last night?"

"What part?"

"The whole thing."

"I am wondering why you told me about the slayers and your part in everything. You could have stopped after showing me the demons and explaining what the Council did."

"Don't you know?"

"Obviously not if I am asking you for the reason," Ziva snapped back.

"It's because I don't want there to be anything that huge between us."

"Between us," Ziva groused. "What do you mean . . . between . . .," she glanced over at Xander. "Oh."

"Yeah, 'Oh'."

The rest of the drive was silent.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

It turned out that Mahalick worked in the same warehouse as Xander's 'Russian' friends. Sasha very quickly told him where the Mahalick could be found and then he and Ziva had gotten into position. Ziva approached the man from the front, he was blond and burly and obviously not a stranger to using his fists. "John Mahalick," she called out, hand on her gun.

"Who wants to know?"

"NCIS, we need you to answer some questions about the death of Lance Corporal Stevens," she replied briskly.

He quickly turned but there was a man there with a .45 pointed right between his eyes. "Don't even think about trying to escape," the man said with a grin. Mahalick quietly put his hands behind his back and Ziva quickly snapped the cuffs on him.

"I know that was a quote from a movie," she said as she manhandled the suspect around so that she could see Xander. "But I can't remember which one."

"The Princess Bride, Ziva," Xander answered as he holstered his gun and took over moving the prisoner from Ziva. "But I'm impressed that you recognized that it was a movie quote."

"Between you and Tony," she said with a smile. "It's a safe bet that everything out of your mouths is a quote."

"True enough," Xander smiled back.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

"It was self defense," Tisdale maintained. "We were fighting then I knocked Stevens on his ass. The dude comes up with a gun and takes a shot at me. Well, I'm close enough so I grab for the thing and we start wrestling for it. I look down and see that it's pointed at his chest so I push on his finger and the gun just starts going off. I swear."

"That would be a lot more believable if his shirt was burned up the way it would be from the muzzle blast," Tony smirked as he tore the dirtbag's story down.

Xander turned away from the window and looked at Gibbs. "We gonna do anything about the wife?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, I'm not a lawyer," Xander fired back. "But she set this whole thing in motion and right now it looks like she's gonna walk away without a scratch." He closed his eye, "And that pisses me off."

"Well we know that she gave Steven's her client list knowing that he had a temper. We could check her phone records and if she contacted anyone and warned them about it that could be called 'Reckless Disregard', or maybe even stretched to 'Accessory'," McGee mused. He looked around to see the others staring at him and he blushed. "The hero in my new book is a lawyer," he said. "I'm picking up a lot doing the research."

Just then, Ziva stuck her head in the door; she'd been jumping through all the legal hoops necessary to release Mahalick. "Dinner on me?" she asked Xander.

"That sounds like a winner there Miss David," he replied with a smile.

No one noticed that Gibbs' eyebrows almost rose a full half inch after listening to the exchange.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

They were back at the diner and Ziva was looking at him intently. "What?" he asked.

"I know what you've told me about the true history of the world and what not," here she looked around to see if anyone was paying attention, "and everything that is in it. But there is one thing that I'm curious about."

"What's that?"

"How did it start?"

"Excuse me?"

"This life, this cause you've made your own. For you, Alexander Harris, how did it start?"

Xander considered the question for a couple of seconds and then a bright smile bloomed on his face. "You see," he began. "There was this girl . . . ."


	24. In The World

In The World

JANUARY

It had been insanely busy lately around NCIS. Idly Xander wondered what it was about the holidays that brought out the crazies, but something sure did. All the stuff that Xander had dealt with meant that Christmas with Maria had been cut short and that his alone time with Ziva had been measured in minutes. That is, until now. He was waiting for Ziva as he sat in the restaurant 1789. The reservations alone had cost him a favor or two and he didn't even want to think about what the bill would be. Considering the company though, he was sure that it would be worth it. He was decked out in a charcoal grey suit, the first suit he'd owned in over five years, there wasn't much call for suit wearing in Africa after all. Realizing that his current wardrobe wouldn't cut it on a date like this he'd broken down and asked DiNozzo where he could get a good one fast, and the guy had delivered. Suddenly he tensed; he could tell that Ziva had just walked into the building. This really shocked Xander because up till now that had been true for only two people, Willow and Faith; the fact that this was true for Ziva as well scared him a bit so he tucked these thoughts into a corner of his mind and instead focused on the now.

Xander stood and buttoned his jacket then turned to face the door. He was stunned. Her hair was a loose cloud that framed her face perfectly, quite the departure from her usual tight pony tail. Her makeup accented her features without overwhelming them and her dress was a cobalt blue sheath that rippled like water as she moved. She glided to a stop in front of him and all he could say was, "Wow."

At first Ziva couldn't believe that this was the same man that she'd been working with for the past four months. Gone were the casual clothes, messy appearance and his quirky little grin; instead there was an immaculately groomed man in a suit that made her want to thank whichever tailor put it together with a look of quiet admiration on his face. His comment, though; was so purely Xander that it made her smile. "I was about to say the same thing," Ziva replied quietly.

Not trusting his brain to get the right words to his mouth just yet, Xander smiled and then moved around and held Ziva's chair for her. In addition to being polite, it also gave him the opportunity to spot the number of weapons she was currently wearing; he had no doubt that she was doing the same to him. After she was seated, he returned to his chair and sat down. His brain had rebooted, although things were not up to their usual speed just yet; so he risked talking. "You look stunning."

"Thank you," she replied with just the hint of a blush. "You look quite dashing as well."

"It's the eye patch," he joked. "It goes with everything and quite frankly I'm surprised that they're not more popular."

"So you think that I should get one?"

"You might want to do a test drive first," he quipped. "Make sure that its right for you before you buy one."

"I just might," she replied. "Did you ride your motorcycle here?" she asked, thinking about his suit.

"Nah, took a cab," Xander replied easily. "I would have felt like an extra in a James Bond movie riding a motorcycle in this thing," he brushed the suit's lapel.

Ziva was about to ask something else when the waiter appeared. They ordered their first course and a nice wine to go with it and then turned back to each other. "So what is the occasion?" Ziva wondered.

"Well, I was gonna ask you out for New Year's but . . . ."

"We had a case."

"Yeah," he leaned forward. "That's the problem with the criminal element around here; they just ignore your schedule and desire for a personal life and break the law at the most inconvenient times."

"True," Ziva agreed. "But at least we captured the man before he could kill again." Here she brightened up, "And we both got to work over some criminals."

"Yeah, we did; didn't we," Xander agreed with a smile. "But you got yours to cry so bonus points to you."

"Thank you," Ziva said with a nod and a smile. "Never underestimate the power of pointy heels in a man's groin."

"Trust me, I don't," Xander shot back. "If I did, you might be inclined to show me the error of my ways."

"I might at that," Ziva purred. The conversation progressed pleasantly throughout dinner, touching on a lot of different subjects but studiously avoiding anything remotely supernatural.

As things were winding down, Xander leaned in over a shared desert and asked, "Do you want to go somewhere after dinner?"

"Like what?"

"Well, it's a little cold for a stroll so I was thinking that we could go dancing if you wanted to or back to my place where we could work on your movie appreciation skills or something else if those don't appeal."

"Would it be a good movie, or a movie that Tony would think is good?"

"Can't it be both," Xander asked. "After all, Tony likes the classics and there's nothing wrong with that."

"True," Ziva conceded, "but he seems to like movies that feature scantily clad women or people doing foolish things. He tried to get me to watch something with three men who simply beat each other constantly. He was laughing so hard that I do not believe he even noticed when I got up."

"That would be the 'Three Stooges'," Xander informed her. "They are a true mystery because men find them hilarious and women can't stand them. No one knows why but that's how it goes." He leaned in close again, "Personally I think its based on genetics. There are some things you get with a Y chromosome and a love for the Stooges is one of them."

"So an appreciation of the Three Imbeciles is something that comes with being male, like your testicles?" she asked.

"Yep, just like a love of figure skating seems to accompany a pair of ovaries."

Ziva just stared at her companion; she was used to verbally sparring with Tony or Tim, both of whom would have frozen up at the testicles comment; getting it volleyed right back at her was new. Also there was the annoying fact that she was not sure if Xander was being serious or not but there was one thing that was crystal clear. Ziva was not about to mention how much she loved to watch ice skating during the Olympics.

Xander held his serious face for as long as he could but eventually a grin broke out on his face as he read Ziva's confusion.

As for Ziva, she just smiled and shook her head at Xander's antics. "A movie sounds fine," she eventually replied.

"Did you drive," Xander asked, thinking about getting to his place.

"No, I took a cab," she replied.

"Well then, when we finish up here we can flag a cab down and then be swept away by one of Hollywood's finest."

"That sounds good," she said, taking his hand.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

The movie had been Casablanca, which Xander characterized as a manly chic flick. Women loved the romance and guys loved Bogart; not to mention the fact that there were zillions of good quotes. Anyway, the movie had been good, Ziva leaning into him and then kissing him towards the end of the movie was better and now he was spooning her in bed, which was best, at least as far as he was concerned. As he lay there, a thought popped into his head, something he had meant to ask earlier but had forgotten. "Ziva," he murmured.

"Yes."

"Could I ask you for a favor?"

"Sure, but I might say 'no'."

"Fair enough."

"So what is it?"

"Would you help train the girls?"

"Why?"

"Because they're fast and strong, but that's pretty much it. It's pretty much up to the local watcher to train the slayers that they have and so that training varies from house to house. The guy here in Washington is hell on wheels with his demonology but he knows aikido and that's it. So the girls here don't have much in the way of technique to fall back on and I would love for you to could give them that."

"I will think about it," she replied and then her breathing deepened and sleep overtook her.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

Ziva was uncomfortable as she stood in front of seven young women, three that she had met and four younger ones that she hadn't; everyone but her was a slayer. She wondered how the heck she'd let Xander talk her into this, but then she remembered his methods of persuasion and blushed faintly. It was ironic in its way, she was teaching seven girls, any one of whom could kick her around the basement, how to fight.

"For those who don't know me, my name is Ziva David," she started, "and I am going to be teaching you how to fight better."

"Why?" Penny, one of the younger girls, asked.

"Because I have seen you fight," Ziva replied. "You all are exceptionally strong and fast but your technique is poor. Always remember one thing, that no matter what you may think, there is something else out there that is faster and stronger than you are. So if you rely only on your strength and speed, what will happen when you meet this creature?"

"You would die," Diana, another of the younger slayers; replied.

"Exactly," Ziva said. "And what is the first rule of slaying?"

"Don't die," all seven of the girls barked out.

"Which is why I'm here," Ziva concluded. "Now we will start with Tai Chi," she told her students. "It helps you to focus your body's energy and it helps you learn how to move properly. Both of these things are the foundations of any martial arts." She looked all seven in the eyes, "Let us begin." And they did.

After the Tai Chi, Ziva had started into the theory and practice of Krav Maga, feeling that a hard form like that would complement the Aikido that they'd been exposed to. By the end of the lesson she was exhausted but her seven students were all bouncing around like Tigger on speed. "Change and do your ten miles," a voice barked from the stairs. There was a bit of grumbling but the girls cleared out quickly.

Xander walked down the stairs and handed Ziva a bottle of water. "You look like you could use it," he said with a smile.

Ziva just nodded, twisted the top off and drained half the bottle in one long pull.

"It makes you hate them a bit, doesn't it?"

"What does?" Ziva wondered.

"You show them things it took you years to master and they get it right on the second try. That they've got more energy than a power station. That despite all the years that you've trained, they've got to be so very careful not to turn you into a pretzel when you're sparring." Xander turned to look at Ziva with a smile, "Pick one or all of the above."

"I'll go with all of the above," she said with a sigh as she slid down the wall and sat on the mat.

"Thank you," Xander said.

Ziva opened her eyes to see Xander kneeling down in front of her. She'd seen his sincere look once or twice, but it had never shone through like it did now. "You're helping these girls to stay alive and I can never thank you enough for that."

"You're welcome," she replied simply and pulled him in for a kiss.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

After just two weeks, all of the girls were so much better that it was frightening and the older slayers noticed that slaying was becoming easier for them thanks to what they'd learned. It was after another training session and Ziva was her usual exhausted heap in one corner of the room. "I had an idea," she said as Xander approached with his customary bottle of water.

"What's that?"

"You should start a dojo here."

"Why?"

"Well first of all, it would provide some income, which is never a bad thing. Second, it would provide an explanation if any of your girls were ever seen fighting in public; being martial arts instructors would explain away a lot of questions. Third, it would provide a place to meet that isn't nearly so suspicious as a girl's school. Fourth, by being instructors, the girls would have to slow down and focus on their technique which would make them even better than they already are. And finally, it gives them a chance to openly help the community; and helping people is something you all should never lose sight of."

"All good reasons," Xander replied after a moment of thought; "I've just got one problem with what you just said."

"What is that?"

"What is this 'You all' shit Ziva? In case you didn't realize, 'You all' includes you."

"But I'm not . . . . ."

"Who cares if you're an official Watcher or not, you are part of us now and even if you walk out that door and never look back. For everything that you've done for us, all the help you've provided, the course you designed that will keep young women alive; Ziva David, you'll still be part of us until the day you die."

"Really?"

"Absolutely," Xander replied, pulling her close.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

Everyone was working on the incessant paperwork that comes with any government job when the mail delivery came through. Xander was surprised to find that there were some things for him in the mail so he opened them up and started to deal with them when he heard a groan from the other side of the bullpen.

"What is it Tony?" Tim asked.

DiNozzo looked like he was gonna just shut up but finally blurted out, "Who's the wise guy that signed me up for a subscription to 'Nuns with Jugs' because that's just wrong on a lot of levels."

"That's better than 'Spankers Anonymous'," Gibbs deadpanned.

Xander thought he might just chew a hole in his cheek trying to keep from laughing.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

FEBRUARY

Xander was hurrying back to his house, he had a date planned with Ziva and he didn't want to be late. They were going to a shooting range and having a 500 point match, the winner got to pick the movies for a week and Xander knew that there were a lot of chic flicks on Ziva's 'want to watch' list. After all those years with Buffy, Willow, Dawn, Cordelia, et al; he couldn't handle Steel Magnolias or Terms of Endearment even one more time. Work at NCIS had almost become routine, which horrified Xander on more than one level. But the cases were fairly simple and most of what he was learning had to do with processing the evidence. Right now he was learning about Databases from Abby. He would have asked Tim for help as well, but Xander was trying to stay away from Tim because he and Maria were going through a rough patch at the moment and Xander didn't want to make things worse.

He pulled into his driveway and was heading for the back door when he realized that it was ajar. Xander instantly dropped into stealth mode and pulled one of his 45's and nudged the door open. He could hear a sound coming from the front room, but he couldn't quite place it, not yet at least. He eased his way through the kitchen and checked out the front room in one of the many mirrors he had scattered around the house.

He saw that there was someone there, a female someone and then he realized that what he was hearing was crying. He quickly holstered his gun and made a little noise so whoever it was wouldn't be completely surprised.

He walked into the front room and cleared his throat. As soon as he had done that the crier had fled the sofa and was attached to his front. He hadn't even seen them move. Now that he could see who it was, he realized that it was Maria. Gingerly he moved over to the sofa and carefully sat down, all the while making sure that she was comfortable. He could tell that she was trying to talk, but trying to decipher the words she was muttering into his chest in between the sobs was just too much. So he sat there and stroked her back and made soothing noises until she calmed down. It took about half an hour; while he was doing that he called Ziva and told her that he couldn't make it because of a family issue. Fortunately, for him, she understood and told him that she would see him tomorrow; then he turned his attention back to his daughter.

"Now what's the matter?"

"Tim broke up with me."

"I knew you all were having issues," Xander said as delicately as he could.

"We were, and I'm not that surprised that it happened."

"Then why the water works?"

"Because he sent me an E-Mail."

"What?" Xander asked, not getting it.

"He broke up with me in an E-Mail," Maria fired back, anger now replacing sorrow. "He could not even face me to do it so he sent me an E-Mail. We've been dating for more than six weeks and all I rate is an E-Mail," the girl ranted. "I know why he did it," she blurted out.

"And why is that?" Xander asked.

"It is because I'm from Africa," she replied. "We went to see his sister and when she found out that I was from Africa she started talking about the poverty, diseases, corruption and all that is wrong over there. Ever since then, he has been distant."

This bothered Xander a bit. When he'd first adopted Mchumba a lot of fairly insensitive people had gone on about her name, and the fact that she was from Africa. It got worse whenever they were in Europe so on her eighteenth birthday, she asked to have her name formally changed to Maria. Even with the name change, though; Xander knew that she was sensitive about where she was from. "First of all I cannot believe that Tim McGee has anything against where you are from; he isn't that kind of guy. Yes, he is an idiot for breaking up with you and his intelligence is now considered questionable, but I honestly don't think that it has anything to do with where you are from." Here he put his finger under her chin and tilted her head until he was looking her in the eyes. "Or the color of your skin," he said, addressing her unstated fear.

"And the E-Mail?"

"He's a writer," Xander answered simply. "He's probably better at expressing himself when he's writing things down as opposed to talking." He could see her getting a bit angry at what might be considered defending McGee so Xander was quick to add, "Like I said earlier, I think the guy's an idiot for breaking up with you, but there may be a reason that he did it the way he did and hurting you with the way the break up was handled was unintentional." He then turned a bit grim himself, "That doesn't mean I won't be having words with him tomorrow . . . ."

"Papa, no," Maria said sternly. "This is my life and I won't have you interfering with it."

"But Maria," Xander whined. "He hurt you so now he's fair game; that bratty sister of his too."

"You will leave them alone," she said.

"I reserve the right to speak to him," Xander said defiantly.

"No guns," Maria fired right back. "Promise me that you will not shoot him or at him or even in his general direction or even just clean your shotgun while staring at him."

"I promise dear, no guns," Xander said piously. "Now you pick out a movie and I'll go get the ice cream," he said while getting up.

"Rocky Road?" she asked in a small voice.

"Would I live in a house that didn't have your favorite in it?" he asked with a soft smile.

"No Papa," she replied. As he headed out the room he heard her soft, "Thank you."

Xander's smile grew into a smirk as he headed towards the kitchen. Maria had insisted on no guns and that was alright with Xander. After all, guns were not his weapons of choice.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

Tony wasn't sure what was up, but it was like a thunderstorm was brewing; he could feel it, he just didn't know where it was coming from. Tim was acting all squirrelly; Ziva was more introverted than usual and Gibbs was just being Gibbs, but a little more so than usual and Harris was late. The elevator dinged and Harris came out and Tony saw his thunderstorm. It was draped around Harris like a blanket, this sense that an explosion could occur at any second and for any reason; the guy was pure nitroglycerin at the moment and Tony wondered what was up. Harris stalked over to his desk; there was no other word for it and sat down. Then he didn't move for almost a minute; didn't speak or so much as twitch. Finally he started stowing his stuff in his desk and looked over at Ziva and told her that he was sorry he had to cancel last night, and wondered if tonight would be alright. Tony raised his mental eyebrows at that but didn't say anything or even acknowledged that he'd heard anything. That was when all hell broke loose.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

Xander hadn't slept much that night. In addition to the relationship situation, Maria was also worried about West Point; she was not a patient girl. When he'd first arrived at NCIS that day he'd first talked to Ducky about what he should do. The old ME had thoroughly endorsed his course of action and even refined it a bit. Xander had then made one more stop before going to the bull pen. As he'd gotten off the elevator, he could tell that the folks there knew something was up; so he'd tried to calm down. It hadn't worked that well but he was more focused. He exchanged a few words with Ziva, because he needed to apologize and because it gave everyone the appearance of normalcy. As Xander was stowing his stuff, he was also surreptitiously pulling his sword and axe. Carefully scanning the others he waited until no one was looking at him, then in one fluid movement he vaulted his desk, landing right in front of McGee's. Almost before the younger man could move he brought his axe down and smashed through McGee's keyboard, burying the axe in the top of his desk. Xander then whipped his sword around and yelled, "An E-Mail, you dumped her via E-Mail."

Xander could tell that both Gibbs and Ziva had drawn their guns, as for Tony he just looked curious. The tableau held for a second or two until Ziva broke the silence.

"Maria?" Ziva asked simply and when Xander nodded, she holstered her gun and sat back down, leaving McGee to his fate. Gibbs hesitated for a second, but when he saw Ziva stand down, he followed her example. As for Tony, well he'd been in Tim's position more times than he wanted to admit and now he was finding it educational to not be on the receiving end of things. Besides, he knew how he'd be if his daughter had been dumped by E-Mail.

"I'm much better with words when I'm writing them," Tim finally managed to stammer out.

"Then hand her a damned letter, but have the balls to do it to her face," Xander growled out. Then he leaned forward and wrenched his axe out of McGee's desk, "You straighten this out," Harris went on. "And soon, before I really get mad."

"I will," Tim replied.

Xander just glowered at him for a few seconds more and then he sat back down behind his desk. Like magic; the weapons disappeared as soon as he sat and just like that, Xander was all business. McGee tried to go back to work, but all too soon he realized that he needed a new keyboard and he took the opportunity to scurry off.

"What happened," Ziva finally asked. Tony was glad that he hadn't given in to his curiosity first.

"Let's just say that Sarah McGee had better hope she never needs Maria's help for anything."

"You done?" Gibbs asked.

"Five by Five," Xander replied, "which is better than Tim will be soon."

"Why do you say that?" Ziva wondered.

"Because Maria and Abby are good friends, and I'm willing to bet that he's in her lab right now looking for some support."

"And you already told Abby everything," Ziva concluded.

Xander just wore a smile of pure malice, no one hurt his little girl and got away clean; not while he was alive.

"What if he goes to Ducky instead," Gibbs asked.

If anything, Xander's smile grew more evil.

"You told him as well," Tony said.

"If your enemy is going to ground, give him no ground to go to," Xander muttered.

"That's just cold," Gibbs observed with a smirk and everyone went back to work.

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Valentine's Day was rapidly approaching and Xander had no idea about what to get Ziva. With Anya it had been easy, something expensive and shiny; with Faith it had always been weapons or tight clothing, certainly nothing 'girly'. With a groan he realized that he needed help. But asking for help meant revealing a relationship that he'd kept secret up until now. He checked the clock and then reluctantly picked up the phone.

"Hey Buffy, how are things in Rome?"

"Xander, why are you calling," she immediately demanded. "It's not an apocalypse is it?"

"What, I can't just call up a friend?"

"You usually just use the phone for checking in. As I recall, you prefer crucial conversations to be face to face."

"Well, I don't have time to fly over just now."

"Ha!," she said in triumph, "I knew it was crucial. So what's up?"

"I need some advice?"

"On what?" Buffy asked, wondering what kind of advice Xander needed.

"OnwhattogetagirlIlikeforvalentinesday," he blurted out.

Fortunately Buffy was familiar with Willowbabble and also had the advanced course in Dawnbabble so she could understand exactly what Xander had just said. "Does this mean you've found someone?" she asked breathlessly.

"I'm not sure Buffy, but there is that possibility."

"Is it that girl that Maria can't seem to shut up about?" Buffy asked with some humor in her voice.

"Which one?" Xander replied.

"What do you mean which one," Buffy yelled, having gone from happy to outraged in 1.7 microseconds. "Are you dating more than one woman right now?"

"No, but Maria is friends with both the women I work with," Xander replied evenly. "I'm not stupid enough to string some other girl along while I'm seriously dating someone."

"Sorry Xander," Buffy said, realizing that she'd gone a bit overboard. "Now I'm assuming you're talking about the woman that's training the girls in DC and not the one that wishes she was a vampire."

"I am, and her name is Ziva."

"Well since I don't know her, the only advice I can give is don't get all crazy."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't get her some hugely expensive romantic gift. Keep it small and personal and you'll do fine."

"What's wrong with hugely romantic?" Xander asked.

"You'll scare her off," Buffy replied in a 'Duh' tone of voice. "Take is easy and you'll be okay."

"Alright," Xander agreed, "but if she's all ticked off because I gave her a cheap gift then I'm telling Giles exactly what happened to his copy of The Dalavarian Codex."

"You wouldn't," Buffy said, horrified at the possibility.

"I would, so you better be sure," Xander replied.

"I am," Buffy assured him. "Now, how have things been going?" Buffy asked one of her oldest friends.

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Xander finally came up with the idea of matching picture frames made of olive wood as an appropriate gift. Ziva was charmed, although a little bit guilty as she hadn't gotten him anything. Xander didn't care about that, she had liked the frames and he maintained that her enjoyment was gift enough for him.

As time wore on, the two of them were getting closer, to the point where Ziva spent more than a few nights at Xander's place. The only issue between the two and it was a minor one, was that Ziva seemed reluctant to participate in the part of Xander's life that dealt with the dark side of life; outside of training the girls that is. Still, she was responsible for what may well have been Xander's most significant accomplishment while he was in DC.

They'd gone out for the evening, a casual meal and then dancing, when Xander's phone had gone off. He recognized the number as one of his demon informants and took the call; after all you didn't want to ignore someone that might be trying to tell you about an apocalypse. He listened for a while, muttered a few things and hung up.

"What is the matter?" Ziva asked.

Xander looked around to see if anyone was paying attention. Since the coast was clear, he started talking. "There's an offshoot of the Maglunk tribe that wants to set up shop here in DC. They're a trading clan," he added parenthetically. "Most of the local trade is managed by the H'U'Drafar and they don't have a problem with competition but how they operate is they set things up and then let another species run the day to day operations since the H'U'Drafar are kind of rare and fairly weak. Anyway, the local clan is that they use are Cretpatan demons and they don't get along well with the Maglunk at all."

"So do they want you and the girls to act as some kind of enforcers and discourage the Maglunk's from moving in?"

"No, they want me to act as the impartial judge for the negotiations between clans," Xander said with surprise in his voice. "What am I, the fricken UN?" he wondered.

"Why not," Ziva replied, dismissing the entire matter from her mind; that she'd been talking about demon clans barely registered, she was focused on their upcoming date.

Xander just looked at the woman, pondering what she'd just said. And the longer he thought, the more he wondered, 'Why not indeed'.


	25. The Darkness Pulls in Everything pt 1

THE DARKNESS PULLS IN EVERYTHING pt. 1

Xander eased himself off of his motorcycle, despite his African pain recovery tea, he was hurting this morning. As he was moving gingerly towards the elevator, he realized that Gibbs was easing up towards him on his left; thank goodness for reflective surfaces. Not being in the mood for games right now Xander said, "Morning Gibbs."

"Xander," Gibbs replied. "Bad weekend?" he asked.

Xander thought back to the weekend. The Council had found that something was up around Cleveland late Thursday, and so Xander, the three senior slayers and the senior watcher from DC house had headed up to Cleveland on Friday. It had been the first real attempt at the Cleveland Hellmouth in three years so no one was taking any chances and teams were being pulled in from all over North America.

Dawn and her crew had come up with a good plan for dealing with the tribe of Gl'arnick'Bruk demons that were intent on bringing the rest of its nation through the most convenient portal, which just happened to be the Hellmouth. The only friction that had come up was over Dawn's insistence on no guns. Xander didn't know if she was channeling Buffy or was against them simply because Xander had suggested their use, but he had played along and stuck with his sword and axe.

It was a brutal fight, mostly because the demons were fighting for their friends and relatives, something that Xander could understand. Xander and the DC crew had been posted in a support position but as was usual, Murphy just couldn't let that happen. The demons' main thrust had been right at the group that Xander and his people were supporting and he soon found himself in the thick of things. Maria was guarding his left and after ten years of fighting in Africa, he had learned to compensate for his blind side. At one point, Maria was being swarmed by three of the rather large demons. Xander went at them from the rear to ease the pressure on his daughter and in the mele, got tagged with a couple of good blows. He'd had worse over the years but getting pummeled by demons was never a fun time. The tide of the battle turned with that rush and soon the pressure eased up enough that after checking to make sure that Maria and the other DC girls were fine, Xander had pulled back a bit to make sure that he was okay as well.

Of course this was exactly when Dawn came up to him screaming something about how he should be avoiding the fight. Xander let her rant and rave, he figured that she was nervous about the whole thing and needed someone to vent at, so he just volunteered himself and stayed silent. This worked fine until Dawn used the magic words, 'Fray Adjacent'.

Xander turned towards her, eye wide with fury. From all of their time together; all the conversations they'd had over the years, Dawn knew how much that one little phrase had hurt Xander; that she would use it now was simply unacceptable. Apparently unaware of his change in mood, she was still yammering away when he deliberately reached into his coat and pulled out his SuperRedhawk. Upon seeing the gun, Dawn stammered to a halt and then took a good look at Xander and immediately understood that he was furious with her. Dawn thought back to what she had said and soon enough she understood his anger, but she refused to give any outward sign of regret at her choice of words. For her own reasons, she felt that she couldn't show any weakness right now.

Barely taking his eye off Dawn, Xander deliberately cocked the revolver and then almost negligently, aimed and fired. Dawn flinched a bit as the gun went off; nearby a demon lost his head, a few bits of meat and a spray of what passed for blood the only thing that was now above its shoulders. As it crashed to the ground, Xander again deliberately cocked and fired, openly daring Dawn to say anything. She never said a word but she never looked away either. He repeated this until the revolver was empty, six shots; six headless demons. What battle had been still going on effectively ended right then. With a snort of contempt Xander turned his back on Dawn and reloaded. He was mad at himself for letting her get to him the way that she had and later he'd apologize for his open defiance of her orders, but a long time ago he'd vowed that he'd never let himself be treated like that again and that was one vow he'd be sure to keep.

Holstering the pistol, Xander went to make sure that all of the DC crew was alright. Relatively speaking, the Council forces had gotten off light, with just five slayers and two watchers injured, fortunately they would all recover. Unfortunately one witch and a watcher had been killed; but that was it for the losses. Maria and Millie were both slightly injured but slayer healing would have them back to normal in no time, so Xander had collected the group from DC and headed back, it was petty to leave without saying anything, but he'd been in a petty mood. The ride back to DC had given his muscles time to stiffen up and even now he was still stiff.

"The usual," he replied to Gibbs as they stood there waiting for the elevator.

They got on silently and were headed up to NCIS' floor when Gibbs hit the emergency stop on the elevator.

"If you hurt her, I'll kill you," he hissed menacingly.

"If I hurt her, you'll have to stand in line like everyone else," Xander quipped back, unimpressed by Gibb's threat.

Gibbs held his gaze for several seconds and then just nodded and started the elevator back up. "Why the magazines," he finally asked.

"You made me watch hours of that Admiral getting it on with his wife," Xander answered simply.

As the chime sounded, telling them that they were at their floor, Gibbs muttered, "Thanks for the Modern Woodworking."

"I thought you'd like it," Xander replied as they headed for their respective desks.

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It had been a slow week. Slow to the point that they'd taken a case where someone had broken in to a Marine barracks used by special ops troops; which had turned out to be the work of a jealous girlfriend looking for evidence of infidelity. So now it was Thursday and Xander didn't even have the distraction of paperwork so he was down at the range working on better controlling his Glock when it was on full auto when Ziva walked in.

Xander turned and smiled at her while noting the case she was carrying and then went back to shredding his target. "So what brings you down here," he asked after taking his hearing protectors off.

"I ran across this and thought you might enjoy trying it?" Ziva answered with a smile. Then she opened the case to reveal a vintage Thompson.

"Where did you find this beauty," Xander asked as he carefully lifted the old Thompson out of its case.

"It was one of the demonstration guns used here at one time, but it's been in storage for a while."

"Do you mind," Xander asked, carrying it over to nearby table.

"Please," Ziva replied as she smiled at the child like enthusiasm Xander was exhibiting.

Xander opened the case and proceeded to dismantle the gun and check the parts for wear. Finding it in excellent condition he reassembled it, then held it up to check the sights. "Have you ever seen any gangster pictures, Ziva?"

"Do you mean movies with drug dealers?"

"No, the old time gangster movies, set in the twenties, shot in black and white; those movies?"

"No, are they good?"

"Some of them are," Xander replied. "And these old beauties were the weapon of choice in most of them."

"It is quite effective," Ziva said.

"You've shot one?" Xander asked, glancing at her.

"Back when I was in Mossad," Ziva replied. "I quite enjoyed it."

"That I believe," Xander told her. "Do you think Gibbs would let me carry this one while I'm here?"

"Wouldn't that be a bit excessive?" Ziva asked.

"That's the idea," Xander grinned.

They packed up the Thompson and were headed for the elevator when Ziva asked, "How did the negotiation go last night?"

"Well, it wasn't so much of a negotiation as it was an introduction. The Maglunk's brought in a group that had expressed an interest in joining, but they had never heard of the Council, surprisingly enough; so they wanted to determine if we were worthy."

"What are they called?" Ziva asked. She was also surprised that a group of demons had never heard of the Council.

"It sounded kind of Asian, like Pyonganaian, but that's not quite it. Fortunately the head guy was at least conversant in English so that was alright."

"And how did they determine whether you were worthy?" Ziva asked, sensing a story.

"I had to debate," here Xander made air quotes, "their champion. Now I had no problem with talking someone into joining, but then this demon that's twice the size of the leader jumps out from the crowd and starts screaming at me. Now I couldn't speak the language so I didn't know if it was a challenge or a ritual greeting or what, so I responded like I usually do."

"You shot it," Ziva answered succinctly.

"Right in the knee; which seemed to impress the hell out of the demons and they unanimously decided that we were worthy right then and there."

"Why was that?" Ziva asked, getting on the elevator.

"Well let's just say that not everything keeps its genitals between its legs and leave it at that," Xander replied with a blush. "They were impressed that I seemed to realize where everything was immediately and then I took steps to prove my dominance without hesitation."

"Sheer luck," Ziva asked with a smirk.

"You know it," Xander replied straight faced. Ziva was still laughing when the elevator got to their floor.

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Gibbs thought that Xander was nuts to want to carry the Thompson but he didn't have any specific problem with it. Tim and Tony were talking with Xander about the mechanics of the whole thing when Gibbs phone rang. Without a word being said, everyone broke up and started getting their gear together. "What is it boss?" Tony asked once Gibbs had hung up the phone.

"Petty Officer killed in her home down in Norfolk," Gibbs answered succinctly as he headed for the elevator. The other four followed him and they were soon on the road.

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Petty Officer Lauren Mitchel was a fairly attractive woman of 38, or at least had been when she was alive. She had not reported for duty and her CO had sent the SP's over to see what was up. They got there and then called NCIS and Xander could understand why; the house was trashed. It seemed like everything in there had been broken or tipped over; as soon as he saw the place his weird'o meter started going off, he knew that something was wrong. He just couldn't seem to quite pinpoint what was setting it off. At least until they rolled the PO over. What he saw when that happened told Xander all that he needed to know. As soon as Ducky and Jimmy had the body on the way back to NCIS, Xander called everyone around. "She was the target," Xander told them simply.

As soon as he said that, both Ziva and Gibbs' eyes lost focus as they mentally searched for the clue that they had overlooked, while both Tony and Tim blurted out, "How do you know that?"

"The glass," Xander answered simply. When it was clear that they didn't understand, he continued. "It's everywhere," he pointed out. "Whoever busted this place up didn't leave on piece intact; the thing is, it wasn't under her body. That tells me that she was killed first and the house trashed afterwards to cover it up.

"Why?" Tim asked.

"No idea," Xander replied.

Ziva chimed in with, "I guess your nick-name is well earned." Before Xander could stop her she continued, "Among the people he works with, he is known as 'The One Who Sees'."

"I'm gonna skin Maria for telling you that stuff," Xander added conversationally.

"Why do they call you that," Tony asked.

"Because supposedly I see what everyone else misses," Xander replied, embarrassed by the attention.

"Well, you did this time," Gibbs said and everyone went back to work.

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"Talk to me McGee," Gibbs barked out. They'd finished with the scene and been back at NCIS for two hours now and Gibbs wanted answers.

"Petty Officer Lauren Mitchel, married and recently divorced, no children. Her husband is the branch manager for a local bank, nothing on him beyond speeding tickets and the divorce seemed to be amicable. She worked in logistics, organizing resupplies for ships when they make port and apparently she spent her entire career here on the east coast."

"Any friends who work in South America or the Middle East," Ziva asked.

"None that I've found, but I'll dig a bit," McGee replied. "A lot of acquaintances but no obvious close friends and her immediate family are all dead," Tim finished up.

"What happened," Gibbs asked.

"Car crash six months after she joined the Navy, boss; mom, dad and a younger brother."

"She's not a part of any organizations or groups out of the ordinary," Tony added.

"What do you mean 'out of the ordinary', DiNozzo?"

"Well, she's in AAA, a leader in the local Girl Scout troop, likes to golf and is active in her church. She's a Lutheran by the way."

"Her only known trip out of the country was when she spent a week in Cancun after her High School graduation," Ziva added to the conversation.

Gibbs went motionless for a few seconds; he just stood there staring at the image of the victim on the large screen in the bull pen. "McGee, you keep digging and call me if you find anything out of the ordinary. Ziva, you and Xander go back to Norfolk and talk to her boss and her co-workers; see if any of them had a reason to kill her or maybe they know someone who did. DiNozzo, you're with me."

"The husband?" he asked; only for Gibbs to glare at him in reply. "Husband, got it boss."

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They'd gone to Norfolk and discovered that Lauren Mitchel was one of the nicest people who had ever lived. Xander and Ziva had poked, prodded and pushed but they couldn't get anyone to say anything bad about the woman and no one knew anyone that could. They had enjoyed a late dinner and were now back on the road to Washington.

"So now that you've heard mine, when have you been the most embarrassed in your life," Ziva asked.

"You like the hard questions, don't you?" Xander replied with a smirk. "Actually, that's easy. After graduation I decided to travel the entire summer and see America before coming back to Sunnydale for good. Anyway, that was my plan, my car's plan was to die in Oxnard and leave me stranded. Well the economy was not the greatest right then and the only place I could find work was the Fabulous Ladies Night Club; which, I'll tell you right now, was very much non-fabulous."

"What did you do there," Ziva asked, sensing a really good story was on the way.

"I washed dishes in the kitchen there. Although calling it a kitchen flatters the place outrageously. So I washed dishes for two months when one of the dancers got drunk and danced right off the edge of the stage and broke his leg. Well the owner needed someone to take his place and she ended up begging me to do it."

"Just what kind of dancing are we talking about Xander?"

"The kind where you don't start out wearing much and finish up wearing less," he replied as his face reddened. So she begs me to do it and I was doing a pretty good job of saying 'no' until she hit me with the puppy dog eyes."

Ziva just nodded at this, she had of course noted Xander's one true weakness already.

"Well once she did that I was sunk and twenty minutes later I was on stage dressed as Zorro." Here he turned to face Ziva and a smirk replaced his prior expression; "And no power on this earth will ever get me to finish that story."

"That is not fair," Ziva howled. "Now I must know how it ended."

"Then you'll have to find someone else that was there that night and ask them," Xander replied. "Cause you're not hearing it from me." The next few minutes were filled with pleading and threatening, but Ziva couldn't get Xander to budge.

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Excitedly, Tim picked up his phone and hit speed dial 2.

"What is it McGee?" Gibbs asked when he answered his phone.

"In the last two months PO Mitchel called the same number six times, a number that she'd never called before; and the last call was placed about 10 minutes before Ducky figures she was killed."

"Where was she calling?"

"An Import/Export business called Lexcorp. It's on the Potomac near Woodbridge."

"Send Ziva and Xander the co-ordinates and have them check it out."

"Got it boss," McGee replied and hung up. Then he called Ziva and passed on the assignment.

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"Wait a minute," Xander said, "did you say the name of the place was Lexcorp?"

"Yes, it is just a few miles ahead. Why is the name troubling you?"

"Lexcorp was the name of the company run by Lex Luthor, the villain in the Superman comics."

"Maybe the owner is just a Greek," Ziva said.

"You mean Geek, and maybe he is but it just sounds way too weird for me. I've gotta think it's a trap of some kind."

"Well that would be sensible," Ziva agreed. "So we will be cautious when we get there."

"More so than usual," Xander insisted.

"Very well," Ziva said with some exasperation. She was convinced that her current partner was over-reacting to just a silly name.

They had been close when Tim had made the call so they were soon pulling into the Lexcorp parking lot. Xander was nervous before he ever got out of the car, the place reminded him way too much of Moloch's lair in Sunnydale. They got out of the car, making sure that their weapons were in hand; and were headed towards the door, occasionally glancing around but pretty much focused on getting in. They were expecting trouble inside, which was their mistake. Xander heard a high pitched whine and saw some sort of dart hit Ziva in the neck. He was just beginning to move when he felt a sting in his own neck and all too soon, the lights went out.

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He came awake instantly and managed to stifle nearly anything that would give him away. There was a brief hitch in his breathing, but that was it. Xander had been able to do things like that since Africa, where a Witch Doctor had supercharged what little remained of the Hyena and Soldier Guy as a way of saying 'Thank You'. It hadn't done a lot, but considering what Xander did on a daily basis, every advantage counted.

Cautiously and surreptitiously he checked his limbs and found, to his great surprise, that he wasn't bound or cuffed or restrained in any way. That told him that whoever had captured him was very confident or very stupid or both. Whoever it was had removed his guns and the ammo for them, but they had somehow missed the blades that were secured in the lining of his greatcoat. That meant that he had his Arkansas Toothpick, trench knife, two throwing knives concealed in the collar and his sword. He figured that they simply hadn't looked for something like that. After all, who carries a sword these days? Xander waited for someone to come for him and after what felt like hours he had decided that it was time to be leaving when he heard voices approaching. Taking a deep breath, he relaxed and listened.

"Why isn't he dead?" voice one asked. It was high and kind of youthful.

"Because he might know," a second voice replied, it was old and experienced and sounded like gravel in a hubcap. "Or we can use him to lean on her, but he's not useless yet so he's still alive and the boss wants him to stay that way."

They were talking on the other side of a door, Xander could tell by the echoes. Since he was laying there facing the door, he could not risk opening his eyes in case there was a window or some other way of observing him. Unfortunately his only option was waiting until one or both of them entered the room, then Xander would move but not until then. He listened to their conversation, trying to figure out what had happened and why they were there but the conversation quickly devolved into the younger voice lamenting his unfaithful girlfriend; who happened to be the sister of his brother's wife so he just couldn't "shoot the bitch" as the older voice had suggested. Xander was getting to the point where he was thinking about moving just to shut them up when he heard the crackle of a radio. The older voice was muttering something that Xander couldn't hear, but you didn't have to be a rocket scientist to figure out that they'd be coming for him soon.

Xander focused on staying calm and regulating his breathing so that the two thugs would have no warning when he finally did strike, it wasn't as easy as it sounded because Xander knew that for every minute he was laying there, Ziva was being worked over. The soldier remnants were working hard inside his head, telling him to stay calm and wait for the opportune moment because Ziva needed to be rescued, she didn't need a dead partner.

He heard the older voice mutter something else and then tell the younger voice to, "Open it up." The sound of keys opening multiple locks told Xander that his time had finally come. He heard footsteps approach and then younger voice ask, "Should he still be out?"

"With what we shot him up with, yeah."

"So how do we get his ass moving?"

"Right now we pick him up, dumbass," the older voice grated out. "Once we get him to the other team, they'll wake him up." Older voice then gave a very not nice chuckle, "Course once he's awake, he'll wish he was asleep again." The younger voice echoed the chuckle and then the two of them were lifting Xander up. They weren't gentle about it and it was everything Xander could do to not react, but he managed it. They took a couple of seconds adjusting their grips and when it was all said and done, Xander found that his right hand was tantalizingly close to his trench knife. 'That will have to do,' he thought.

The two of them were working him through the door when Xander felt that his time had come. Without hesitation, Xander's right hand dipped down and grabbed his trench knife. Younger voice, who was on his right, realized that something was up when he felt Xander's arm move, but before he could say or do anything, Xander brought his arm up and caught younger voice with an elbow strike to the nose. Older voice heard the sound of the strike and looked up just in time for Xander to bury all seven inches of the blade in his right eye. Older voice wasn't dead yet, but he was well on his way; so Xander just dropped him and turned to face Younger voice. Younger voice turned out to be a pasty, red headed kid who might be all of 25 but not much more than that. He was currently trying to pull his gun and blink the tears out of his eyes so he could aim the thing. Xander pulled his Arkansas Toothpick and flipped it to his right hand. Then, with a dancer's grace, he took one long stride forward, batted the kid's gun aside with his left and rammed the long knife up into and through the guy's heart. Xander held the kid up for a second and then let him drop and turned back to get his Trench knife while Younger voice finished dying.

Xander's conscience was yelling at him for snuffing out two lives, but the rest of his brain reminded him that these guys had attacked both him and Ziva. They had played a dangerous game and lost; now they were paying the price for loosing. He was about to reach for the man's gun when something occurred to him. This was a set up. These guys had wanted them to come here, why he didn't know but he was sure that they'd been steered here. That meant that these clowns had probably broken in and killed Petty Officer Mitchel so the last thing he needed was his fingerprints all over the gun used to kill an innocent woman.

He recovered the trench knife, trying not to barf at the sound it made coming out of the old guy's head. He cleaned it and returned it to its place in his coat, then he went and retrieved his other knife which had not only gone through the guys heart, but the rest of his body as well. Xander took a quick look around in the vain hope that his own guns were here but no such luck and he didn't have the time to do a thorough search. Eyeing the two thugs' guns longingly, he pulled his sword and started off in the direction that the two had seemed to be heading. He was moving silently, as the Maasai had taught him; when he heard voices up ahead. "Where the hell are they," one voice asked; then Xander heard the crackle of a radio. "Team two, report," another male voice called into the radio.

Xander snuck a peak around a corner, all the while hoping that he wouldn't be spotted. What he saw wasn't encouraging. Ziva was tied to a chair in what used to be an office. She looked like she'd taken a shot or two, but nothing too bad. There were just the two men with her. One was just at the entrance to the office talking into a radio and the other was holding a gun. It wasn't pointed at Ziva at the moment, but as close as he was, it wouldn't take long to do so. The guy with the radio wasn't close enough for Xander to get him with the sword but he wasn't too far for a throwing knife. The problem was the other guy, the one with the gun who'd obviously been questioning Ziva. If Xander took out radio guy first then gun boy would have time to shoot Ziva, because there was no way Xander could take the radio guy out silently. On the other hand, gun boy was too far away for an accurate knife cast. Xander was sure he could hit the guy, but hitting him so that he wouldn't have a chance to shoot Ziva, Xander figured that was beyond him.

From the look of things, though; Xander wasn't going to have a lot of time to plan because radio guy's request for team two to answer was only gathering static. The two thugs exchanged a meaningful glance and Xander knew that he was out of time.

Darting around the corner, he threw both his throwing knives at radio guy. One was a heart hit and the other took him in the neck. Radio guy was dead; he just hadn't bled out yet. Still moving, Xander drew his sword with a yell, hoping to confuse gun boy for the few seconds that he needed. As he was running, Xander crouched down a bit so that gun boy couldn't see him clearly through the falling body of radio guy. He could see gun boy's eyes darting from the unknown threat to Ziva and back, but he decided too quickly for Xander. The gun came up as Xander lunged and swung his sword in a rising slash. The gun fired just as the sword was cutting through gun boy's forearm. It was enough to keep the bullet from hitting Ziva in the heart; it wasn't enough to keep it from hitting Ziva all together.

Xander was almost deafened by the twin yells; Ziva's high pitched scream of agony from the wound in her upper chest and gun boy's bellow of horror at not being connected to his hand any more. Xander brought his sword around in a swift, brutal arc and hit gun boy in the head with the flat of the blade; normally he would have just taken the bastard's head off but he wanted this creep alive. He stomped down on what was left of the man's right arm in order to stop the bleeding while at the same time, cutting Ziva from the chair she was tied to and lowering her to the ground. Thankfully Ziva was silent for all of this as she had temporarily passed out from the pain.

Xander took one look at the wound and paled. He wasn't a medic or anything like that, but he'd see wounds in his time and this one was bad, really bad. Still managing to kneel on the shooter's right arm, he tore off his shirt and pressed it into the wound. Ziva gasped as her eyes flew open from the pain. She shot Xander a look and for an instant all the masks were off and she was just a young woman who didn't want to die. Well she wasn't gonna, not on his watch. Holding the makeshift bandage with his right hand, he grabbed the cross around his neck with his left, yanked it off and yelled, "Willow, get up here now."

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

Ziva was sure he had gone crazy because he started talking to nothing. "I don't care if you're entertaining Jennifer Aniston, Jessica Alba and all of the Victoria's Secret models, get your ass up here now," he screamed out.

Then Ziva thought that she was the one who was crazy from the pain or hallucinating from blood loss because suddenly a red headed woman was there with a very irritated expression on her face. She was wearing a loose skirt and top, both of which looked somewhat rumpled. "What?" she demanded.

"Save her," Xander said simply, pulling the woman down next to him. Ziva saw the woman go pale and then a determined look dropped over her face. Ziva realized that the woman was the one from the posters, 'The Mage' but before she could make any other connections; she lost her battle with consciousness.


	26. The Darkness Pulls In Everything pt 2

THE DARKNESS PULLS IN EVERYTHING pt. 2

Willow touched Xander's hand as she placed her own hand on the bloody shirt that was now being used as a bandage. As soon as the connection was made, they began speaking with the speed of thought. Xander had expected this, and didn't start or otherwise indicate that anything was unusual, because for him, this really wasn't that unusual.

'Don't heal her completely,' Xander thought to his best friend. 'Just make it look like the bullet did minimal damage.'

Willow's eyes flicked almost imperceptibly in acknowledgement and the skin under the bandage began to glow in response to Willow's low chant. 'We're being watched,' she thought to her oldest friend while this happened.

'Where?'

'Small remote in the corner,' her eyes flicking in the direction of the monitor.

'Would it have seen you pop in?'

'No, I was outside its range.'

'Can they see you now?'

'Not clearly, you're blocking the line of sight.'

'Good; then it'll be interesting to see who asks about the red headed woman,' Xander thought with a smirk. 'That will tell us who set this up.' The anger Xander was feeling right then surged through their link and Willow realized that this woman wasn't just someone that Xander worked with.

'Do you love her?' Willow asked with uncharacteristic bluntness.

'Not sure,' Xander replied. 'A lot of issues on both sides.'

It was then that Xander realized that they hadn't been interrupted by Kennedy yet, something Xander would have assumed wasn't possible. 'Where's Kennedy?' he wondered.

"Buenos Aires,' Willow thought back, her face twisting a bit with the pain. 'With a new watcher from France named Emma.'

'Is it permanent?'

'We're not sure just yet; this is kind of a trial run.'

Xander both saw and felt Willow's pain and wanted to do nothing more than take her in his arms and hug her until the pain faded, but he knew that now wasn't the time or place. 'Have you got this under control?' he thought.

'Yeah, why?'

'I was gonna move Stumpy here so the only thing our peeping tom would see is his back.'

'Stumpy?' Willow wondered, her face showing alarm. 'What did you do?'

'He was shooting at Ziva,' Xander replied. 'I just made sure he could never do it again.'

Willow studied her friend for a moment. She was a bit shocked at his brutality, but then she had always known he'd had a dark streak. That darkness was easy to forget due to his normal genial nature; but the times that she had seen it were memorable. She just nodded to him and the connection was broken as he manhandled a still breathing body over to the corner so that it was blocking the camera. She then watched as he removed a lace from the guy's shoe and constructed a crude tourniquet to make sure the guy lived long enough to answer some questions. Almost finished, Willow looked down at the woman she was healing. She was quite attractive, and if rumors were to be believed, an extremely skilled fighter. Willow had realized Xander's attraction to strong women and temporarily lamented her reticent nature; but those were dreams of the past and though they still stung from time to time, they weren't as overwhelming as they used to be. She eased up a bit as she finished; one bullet hole as ordered, minimal damage; guaranteed survival.

"Thanks Wills," Xander whispered in his oldest friend's ear as he came back to where Willow had been working.

"Treat her right," Willow whispered back as she leaned back into Xander's comforting bulk. For a second or two she relaxed and let him support her. It was a reminder that despite drifting apart, they would always be Willow and Xander.

"/That's the plan,/" Xander said with a soft smile as he switched to Klingon. Their eaves dropper might figure out what they were saying to each other, but they were gonna make him work for it. Then his face hardened, "/Does Kennedy know she's on borrowed time?/"

"/Just leave it Xander, please;/" Willow pleaded. "/It wasn't entirely her fault./"

"/Alright,/" Xander grumbled. "/But I reserve the right to slip Nair into her shampoo./"

"/It wouldn't be you if you didn't./"

"/Do you want to spend some time up here in DC?/" he asked suddenly. "/A change of scenery might do you good./"

"/Thanks, maybe in a month or so,/" Willow replied, hugging her friend as the knelt over Ziva.

"/Hey, any idea where my phone is?/"

"/Back in the opposite corner,/" she replied after her eyes had lost focus for a second or two.

"/Thanks,/" Xander said getting up. He picked up his phone and turned back to Willow. "/I could never thank you enough for this,/" he told her.

"/For finding your phone,/" she quipped.

"/You know what I mean./"

"/I do, and that's one of the great things about friends, you don't have to keep score./"

"/Keeping score or not, I still owe you,/" he said seriously. Willow just smiled in acknowledgement and stood. Xander opened his phone. "/Now you better head out while I call in the cavalry./"

Willow stood and the two friends hugged and then without any warning at all, she was gone. 'It just doesn't seem right that she can do that without some kind of pyrotechnics,' Xander thought while he went back to putting pressure on the wound with his left hand and hit the speed dial button on his phone with the right.

"Gibbs."

"Boss, get an ambulance down to Lexcorp right now, Ziva's been shot."

"What the hell happened?" Gibbs asked after he told DiNozzo to call the medics and McGee in that order.

"We got jumped in the parking lot," Xander answered. "They tranqued us both and just left me and were asking Ziva a lot of questions. The only one I heard was them asking her where 'It' was, whatever the hell it is."

"The guys that jumped you?"

"Are very sorry they did it," Xander replied with a bit of venom. "What's funny is that given the choice between shooting me and shooting Ziva, they put one in her shoulder; and that was while I was in the process of killing them." Xander fell silent for a second, letting Gibbs figure out the implications on his own. "You better hurry Boss," Xander continued. "I've got a feeling that we might have some company soon."

"More bad guys?"

"No idea, just a bad feeling," Xander answered.

"Make sure you're both still there when we get there," Gibbs ordered.

"That's the plan, Boss," Xander answered and hung up. He took a second to pull his Colts over near him in case anyone showed up that felt like getting feisty. Then he went back to putting pressure on Ziva's wound and praying.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

A couple of minutes after calling Gibbs, Xander's prayers were answered when Ziva woke up. "Xander?" she asked weakly

"I'm here Z," he said, leaning close. "How do you feel?"

"My shoulder hurts and I feel like I'm going to pass out soon."

"That's because you decided to catch a bullet with your shoulder," Xander quipped back softly. "You've lost a lot of blood but you're gonna be just fine."

"The Mage?" she husked out.

Xander leaned in close to make sure that whoever was listening wouldn't pick anything up. "Yeah, she was here and made sure everything was gonna be okay." He saw Ziva give a weak smile and then Xander leaned in even closer, "What were they after Z?"

"CI Ray," Ziva answered. It was so quiet that Xander wasn't entirely positive that he'd heard her correctly. He'd be sure and ask Gibbs when they could talk. He looked back only to find that Ziva was in Lala land again, so Xander went back to praying; it didn't last long. He saw the beams of flashlights playing across the walls of the outer office and could hear the scrape of boots on carpet; so after he had one of his Colts in his right hand he called out, "NCIS, agent down, I need an ambulance right away."

The lights froze and then an older voice called out, "This is the FBI, come out with your hands up."

"I can't do that," Xander called back. "My partner has a hole in her shoulder and I'm currently making sure that she stays alive."

"Identify yourself," the older voice called out.

"I'm agent Harris, agent David is the one who's wounded."

Xander saw a balding guy, about Gibbs age, poke his head around the doorway quickly and then pull it back. "Let me see your right hand," the guy called out.

"Sure," Xander replied and laid down his Colt where he could pick it up almost instantly and when the balding guy stuck his head in again; Xander waved.

Apparently this was good enough for the balding guy as he stepped cautiously into the room. "What the hell happened here?"

"We were investigating a murdered Petty Officer," Xander explained. "According to our tech guy, she'd made some calls to this address but when we got here we were tranqued. When I came too, I was in a different part of the building so I escaped, came here and found a couple of guys having a very impolite conversation with my partner. They shot her and I put them down."

"So you killed four men?" balding guy asked.

"Yep," Xander replied while shaking his head 'no'.

Before the balding guy could ask what the hell he meant, a couple of EMT's came in and were checking on Ziva so Xander backed away and found himself next to the balding guy. "Who are you, aside from being FBI I mean?" he asked.

"The name's Fornell," balding guy responded. "What the hell did you do to this guy?" he asked Xander.

Xander just made a gesture telling the guy to be quiet and then pulled Stumpy aside so that the FBI man could see the camera. Xander reached down and pulled the camera out of the wall, a good bit of wire came with it. He held it up so that his face was visible and hissed out, "Four down, the rest of you to go," and then yanked the thing until the wire let go and the power died.

"What the hell did you do that for?" Fornell asked.

"Someone was orchestrating this and has been watching the whole thing," Xander replied. "I'd be willing to be that the reason you all are here is an anonymous tip." The look on Fornell's face told Xander that he was right. "So now whoever is behind this will be focusing on me and Ziva and not on Stumpy here who'll be spilling his guts somewhere."

"You mean he's still alive?" Fornell asked.

"Sure, I only cut his hand off," Xander replied matter of factly. "I got the tourniquet on pretty quickly so he should be fine once they seal off his arm and get some fluids in him."

Fornell was appalled by Harris' lack of remorse or anything resembling as he spoke of removing part of a man's arm and figured he would bust the guy, if he could. Taking out a notebook he said, "Okay, take it from the top."

Xander pulled Fornell aside as the EMT's switched their attention from Ziva to Stumpy then he said, "You want to hear this as well, Boss."

"From the top Xander," Gibbs replied shooting a glare at Fornell. So Xander repeated what had happened, leaving out any mention of Willow and Ziva's mysterious "CI Ray". As Fornell walked away, muttering to himself; Xander turned to Gibbs and DiNozzo. "Ziva woke up for a second and said something weird," he told the two men. "I had asked her what this was all about and she answered 'CI Ray'. Does that mean anything to you guys?"

Tony gave a grimace. "CI Ray is Ray Cruz," he answered. "He's a CIA agent that Ziva was involved with for a while."

"These guys were asking about where 'it' was; do either of you have any idea what 'it' might be?" Both men shook their heads. Just then two guys came in with a gurney and started loading Ziva on it.

Gibbs saw the look in Xander's eye and said, "Go with her and keep an eye on her Xander. When she wakes up see if she can shed any more light on this. We'll spell you in the morning."

"Thanks Boss," Xander said with a smile and went over to where his guns lay and started loading up.

Fornell chose that moment to walk in and paled at the armament Xander had in and under his coat. "What the hell is all that for," he asked.

"Semper Paratus," Xander replied. At the blank looks he sighed, "It's the Coast Guard motto," he told them. "Always prepared," then he followed Ziva's gurney to the ambulance shaking his head the whole time.

Fornell turned to Gibbs, "Is that guy nuts?"

"Actually that was his genial and pleasant side," Tony said with a smirk.

"Who the hell is that guy?" Fornell asked in frustration.

"Working on it," Gibbs replied with a grin.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

Xander watched as the wheeled Ziva into the surgical unit of Inova Alexandria Hospital. He pulled out his cell and his fingers flew over the keypad. His call was answered on the second ring. "Maria, I'm gonna need your all's help. Ziva's been shot and the people responsible know that she's still alive."

"…."

"We're at Inova Alexandria Hospital."

"….."

"No, I'm fine and she'll be fine."

"….."

"I know because I called Willow."

"…."

"Surprised me too. Anyway, I want two slayers here at all times. I'm pretty sure that they'll try again and we're gonna make sure that they don't succeed."

"…."

"I don't know, Candy Stripers or something like that; maybe just sisters and daughters of patients would work better. But you all can figure that one out."

"…"

"I'll let you know the room number when I find out; meanwhile I'll be in the surgical waiting room."

"…"

"Yeah, love you too brat." He smiled and hung up then sat down to wait but since he already knew that she'd be fine, the wait was more boring than tense."

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

Back at NCIS, Gibbs was pacing; that was never a good sign. "Any ID's yet from the bodies?"

"I'm running them through all known databases Gibbs, that's gonna take some time," Abby answered. "Are you sure she's going to be all right?"

"That's what Harris said. According to him the Docs claim that the bullet missed all the crucial bits and caused minimal damage."

"Have you called her father yet?"

"I let Leon do that," Gibbs replied. After all the NCIS director was friends with Eli David. Actually Gibbs was looking forward to witnessing the meeting between Eli and Xander; but more in the way that you look forward to a demolition derby rather than looking forward to a party. "What do we know about Lexcorp?" Gibbs asked as he turned and looked at McGee.

"Actual ownership is buried under a lot of dummy corporations and holding companies," Tim answered. "The job someone did to bury this was a real work of art," McGee continued.

"You're not answering my question, McGee," Gibbs growled.

McGee looked quickly down at his computer, "Well it ultimately looks like Lexcorp is owned by Trent Kort."

"Looks like?" Gibbs asked.

"Well the accounts that pay the taxes and everything dead end with him," McGee replied weakly. "It's just kind of a surprise is all," Tim continued. "Kort has always been a straight shooter with us and he doesn't seem dumb enough to do something like this in a building that can actually be traced back to him. At Gibbs continued glare McGee straightened up. "Make sure that Kort actually is controlling those accounts because even the smartest criminal can do dumb things, got it Boss," he began tapping away furiously.

"You want me to keep an eye on the live suspect?" Tony asked. "Even though the head honcho's think he's dead, some guy losing his hand is gonna create some chatter at the hospital and it wouldn't be that hard to connect the dots."

"You know anyone at CIA that you think would give you a straight answer," Gibbs asked.

"One, but they're pretty low level," DiNozzo answered.

"Give 'em a call when you get to the hospital," Gibbs told him.

"Where are you off to, Boss?" Tony asked as he put his coat on.

"I'm gonna talk to Leon," Gibbs replied. He headed upstairs as DiNozzo left. One of his was in the Hospital and Gibbs wanted answers as to why that was. And if Leon didn't have the answers, he was closer to the people that had them than Gibbs was.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

Xander sat in Ziva's hospital room idly working through a book of sodoku puzzles that Maria had given him and waiting for Ziva to wake up. The doctors had said that everything would be fine and that there shouldn't be any lingering stiffness when she was fully healed. He had of course communicated this to everyone at NCIS and while Xander was playing guard dog, everyone else was trying to figure out who had been calling the shots on this one. Xander's eye flickered to the monitor as he noticed that Ziva's heart had sped up for a few beats and the speed up corresponded with a slight change in her breathing pattern. Knowing that she was now awake, Xander closed the book and backed off a bit, he didn't want' to get smacked if she woke up thinking that she was surrounded by enemies.

"Ziva, its Xander and you're in the hospital. You're safe and you're gonna be fine." When there was no response he said, "I know you can hear me. I promise that you're safe."

"What's your middle name?" was mumbled from the bed.

"I never told you my middle name," he shot back. Her eyes opened then and she shot him an amused smirk. "What happened?"

"I was hoping you could tell me that," he replied.

"Tell me what happened to you first," she insisted. It was then that Xander realized that even now, Ziva didn't fully trust him and seriously considered it a possibility that he could have been in on what happened. It was one of the saddest thoughts in his life. Regardless, he told her what had happened to him, up to the part where Ziva got shot. "So what was going on, cause you were obviously the target?"

"They kept asking about someone I used to date. Places that we had went; things we had done, presents that he had given me. I had no reason to lie so I told them what I knew but they kept coming back to something that he gave me," she replied. They were never specific, they always referred to the object only as it; they acted like I should know what they were talking about," she sounded perplexed. Things just didn't add up.

"They wanted to know about Ray Cruz?" Xander asked. At Ziva's surprised look he continued. "You woke up for a second or two and muttered 'CI Ray', when I mentioned that to Gibbs, Tony told us what it meant."

"And it doesn't bother you?"

"What, that you have a past? Most of us do," Xander answered with a grin. "So any idea about what it is that they were looking for?"

"No, they weren't specific," Ziva replied. "They simply acted like I should know what they were talking about," Ziva repeated

"Did he ever give you anything, anything special," Xander asked.

"The last thing he gave me was an empty ring box," Ziva replied after thinking a moment. She looked up and saw that Xander was confused. "He did that as a promise that he would soon give me a ring."

"Ahhh," Xander said. "Romance; I've heard of this thing before, quite the foreign concept if you ask me."

Ziva giggled at his antics, then winced and grabbed her shoulder. "Sorry," Xander said and was immediately at her side. "I should know better. So where is this box now?" he asked.

"In my desk at work," she answered. "Do you think that's why we were questioned?"

"Probably," Xander replied. "I'd be willing to bet that your place was tossed and when they didn't find what they were looking for, they arranged our little rendezvous." He saw Ziva wince again and asked, "How's the shoulder?"

"It's not as bad as it should be, is it," she challenged. Memories were coming back now of someone else being there with her. Ziva remembered a soft voice, a flash of red hair and the smell of strawberries.

"No," Xander said reluctantly. "It isn't."

"Tell me," Ziva asked, so Xander did.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

"So what have ya got DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

"This guy's part of a crew of independent contractors that handle personnel problems."

"A mercenary hit squad," Gibbs translated.

"Exactly," Tony agreed. "They have most recently been working out of Afghanistan."

"Government contract?"

"It looks that way. This guy sicked up everything he knew but he claimed to have never met the contractor and the guy always used a voice disguiser when they talked."

"Why is this guy talking," Gibbs wanted to know.

"Because I told him that if he didn't, then the guy with the machete would be talking to him next."

"That would do it," Gibbs agreed. "So where is he now?"

"No idea Boss. A bunch of guys came in and screamed something about national security and then jerked this guy right out from under both me and the FBI."

"Agency?"

"That would be my guess."

"Did your source tell you anything?"

"Only that Kort and Cruz were working together. No word on where or what the current assignment was."

"Alright DiNozzo, get back in here."

"On my way boss," Tony replied and cut the connection.

"Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs," Abby called out as she came barreling into the bull pen. "You aren't gonna believe what I just found."

"What was it?" he asked, knowing how Abby worked.

"One of the guys that Xander . . . . . took care of; had a plastic envelope on him."

"And it was full of . . . .?"

"Heroin," Abby answered enthusiastically. "You wanna guess as to where it came from?"

"Afghanistan," Gibbs replied.

"Yeah, but that's not the kicker," Abby gushed. "It's not stuff that's been around for a while. This stuff was a poppy less than six months ago."

"That can't be right," McGee chimed in. "The US military shut down opium production because the money was being used to fund the Taliban."

"Then they missed some," Abby said with a smirk. "Cause this stuff came from Afghanistan recently."

"How could you possibly know that," Tim challenged.

"Do you really want me to answer that fully and completely?"

"No," both Gibbs and McGee answered. "The question is," Gibbs wondered a moment later. "How the heck did it get here?"

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

"Abby found heroin on one of the bodies," Tony asked, just to make sure that he was hearing right.

"Yeah, why?" Tim replied, wondering what all the excitement was about.

"One of the guys had a kit on him," Tony said.

"Kit?"

"For cooking and injecting heroin," Tony replied. Belatedly he remembered that for all of his knowledge, McGee was pretty naïve in a lot of ways.

"What are you thinking," Gibbs asked.

"I'm thinking that the heroin was for Ziva," Tony answered. "That was how they were going to kill her."

"Kill with heroin?" McGee asked.

"Yeah, most heroin you get on the street is cut so that it both goes further and won't kill the hype using it. But pure heroin would cause your lungs to shut down instantly among other things." Tony looked at Gibbs, "Do we have the bodies?"

"Ducky should be finishing up about now," Gibbs replied.

"If there's no needle tracks on these guys . . . . ."

"Then we've found how they kill and we can trace that," Gibbs finished. He headed for the elevator. "Nice work DiNozzo," came floating back over the bull pen as the elevator chimed.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

The first thing he heard as he walked into the morgue was Ducky declaiming, "It just doesn't make sense."

"What doesn't Ducky?"

"Oh, hello Jethro," the old ME replied as he turned to see who had spoken.

"What doesn't make sense Ducky?" Gibbs repeated and stopped to look at the X-ray that Ducky was examining. "Is that one of the men who went after Ziva?"

"No, this is Ziva dear boy," Ducky replied. "And what doesn't make sense is the amount of damage that was done."

"What do you mean?"

"Well from the wound track, the bullet should have passed through both the Brachial Plexus and the Subclavian Vein; but neither of those show any damage at all."

"Translation," Gibbs asked.

"Well from what I can tell, Ziva should have either bled to death or at least ended up with her arm barely functional for the rest of her life. Neither of those things happened and it just doesn't make sense."

"Just lucky," Gibbs suggested.

"This would go beyond luck and extend into the miraculous category," Ducky maintained.

"I've seen stranger," Gibbs said.

"As have I," Ducky replied. "Now what can I do for you Jethro?"

"Did any of the bodies have needle tracks or show evidence of heroin use?"

"No, why?"

"Abby discovered heroin on one of the bodies and we're trying to determine if it was someone's stash or if they were planning on using it to kill Ziva."

"The latter, I suspect," Ducky said finally. "All of these men were quite fit and that includes the one that Alexander . . . . . injured. Heroin use would have been very clear in any of these men and the signs just aren't there."

"Thanks Duck," Gibbs said as he started to leave, his anger level rising as the realization that these men were going to kill one of his team percolated its way through his brain.

"Jethro," Ducky called out.

"Yeah, Duck?"

"Be sure and thank young Alexander when you see him; for saving Ziva as well as himself."

"I will Ducky," Gibbs replied and headed back for the bull pen, there was a lot of work to do.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

The five of them worked through the night, chasing down leads and bouncing ideas off of each other. DiNozzo's notes from his interview with Ruben Stevens, the man with only one hand left, didn't shed much light on the whole thing but there were some nuggets in there. The CIA wasn't much help although they confirmed that Trent Kort had been off the grid for some time and that Ray Cruz had been sporadic in his contact for the last six months.

As they worked a pattern started to form, pieces started to fall together and by morning Gibbs felt like they might have a handle on things.

"Okay people, what have we got;" he called out as everyone gathered. "We have three bodies and one live perpetrator," Ducky began. "All appear to be fit which would suggest some military training as do the scars on their bodies. All were killed quite efficiently. Despite the presence of drugs, there is no physical evidence of any of the men having abused or even used drugs. I can categorically state that there were no needle tracks on any of them."

"We finally have some names to go with our bad guys," Abby cut in. "The names we have are Ruben Stevens, Mitch Gaylord and Donny Anderson. The fourth guy has no records that I can find just yet, which is kind of suggestive by itself."

"How is that possible," Tony asked.

"Black ops people are usually erased like that," Gibbs answered; "which means that some government knows who he is."

"I got hits on two of them through INTERPOL and Anderson has a kill on sight order on him in Pakistan. Gaylord is Canadian, the other two are American and from his dental work, Mr. No-Name was Eastern European. I got lucky and found samples of different pollens on the bodies and I can definitely tell you where they've been for the last forty eight hours or so."

"We start out in Afghanistan, which shouldn't be any surprise because of the heroin; there was Poppy pollen all over all three bodies. Then we hop to Germany, probably Frankfurt. There was Linden pollen on these guys as well and due to warmer than normal conditions, the Lindens are blooming early in central Europe. Our final stop on this tour was Virginia with its beautiful Azaleas, which again left evidence on all of the bodies."

"Anything else," Gibbs asked.

"Nothing significant yet but I've still got some stuff running," Abby concluded.

"Afghanistan to Frankfurt to Virginia, that sounds like a Military route Boss;" DiNozzo chimed in.

"Yeah it does," Gibbs agreed. "Does it fit?"

"Yeah, it looks like Kort was pretty busy in the back country of Afghanistan for a couple of years, that's a lot of time to make friends both good and bad. Not to mention it would get you a few favors from our guys on the ground."

"True," Gibbs agreed.

"Yeah, but Kort has always been a good guy, at least where we're concerned," Tim chimed in.

"Yeah, but we also know that he funded his ops by knocking over crime syndicates and that kind of thing, maybe one day he looked at his bank account and decided to join 'em since he wasn't making much headway at beating 'em."

"Very cynical, Tony."

"Thank you Tim," DiNozzo replied. "But cynical doesn't mean 'not true'." He then turned to Gibbs. "Assuming Kort has decided to go into the drug trade, we know he's got product; what about distribution."

"You're thinking he's using Military flights?"

"Right now it looks like that's how the Four Stooges got here Boss, I'd say it's worth looking at." Gibbs just looked at him and Tony continued, "Which is now my top priority."

The five of them were looking intently at the information on the screens. They were so focused that they virtually ignored what was going on around them, until a voice spoke up, "I know that man."

Everyone turned to see Director Vance standing there with Eli David. "You know this guy?" Gibbs asked.

"Indeed Agent Gibbs," Eli said. "Why are you interested in him?"

"We think he masterminded the attack on you daughter," Tim answered.

"That would be difficult," Eli said with a hint of a sneer; "since he was found dead in Tel Aviv six months ago."

"Dead," Abby and Tony said at the same time.

"Yes, a .22 to the back of the head at close range," Eli confirmed. "Until now he was simply an 'Unknown Subject', who was he?"

Gibbs looked to Vance who nodded slightly. "Trent Kort," Gibbs replied. "He was CIA."

"How could you remember the details after six months," Tim wondered aloud.

"In Israel, death is common but executions are rare," Eli replied. "Especially when no one knows who the poor devil is or why they were executed."

"There goes that theory," Tony said with a rueful grin. The silence in the bull pen following this observation was broken by the sound of a hand hitting someone's head. "Thanks Boss."


	27. The Darkness Pulls in Everything pt 3

THE DARKNESS PULLS IN EVERYTHING pt. 3

In the twilight of Ziva's hospital room, Xander sat and watched her sleep, the various monitors and lights a testament to the fact that she was alive. He was only peripherally aware of this because he was deep in thought. The uncharitable might claim that this was a unique situation for him, and Xander himself would agree that he was more a man of deeds than thoughts; but he could be introspective as well as the next person. It wasn't just Ogre's that were allowed to have layers. He was thinking about Willow's question earlier that night; "Do you love her"?

His answer had been quick and without conscious thought, some might say that was the honest answer but Xander wasn't sure, hence the broodfest. Did he love her, and if not, why not? He had loved many women in his life. If you extended the definition to include those you were willing to risk your life for, then it could be said that Xander loved every slayer currently alive but tonight he was focusing on those he kept in his heart.

First there was Willow of course. Despite evidence to the contrary, he had noticed her the way that a boy notices a girl as they had grown up. He remembered one three week span when he had done everything he could to catch a glimpse of some illicit Willow skin. It had culminated with him inviting her to a picnic on the beach. Once there, he had suggested that they swim and had brought an old bathing suit that Willow had left over at his house not too long ago. He would offer to hold a towel so that she could change and then peek. Unfortunately Willow had anticipated the possibility of swimming and had worn a suit under her clothes; a suit that would have been considered conservative in Iran. Xander had given up after that.

There were three reasons that he had never acted on those observations. The first was Jesse. If he and Willow had become boyfriend/girlfriend then Jesse would have been left as a third wheel. And as much as he and Willow both would have denied this, he would have drifted away from them; and they both owed him too much to just cut him loose like that. Again, Xander remembered how seemingly inconsolable that Willow had been after his death, a grief that he had shared.

Second was that they had grown up together, there was little about Xander that Willow didn't know and vice versa. They were aware of each other on such a fundamental level that dating seemed shallow by comparison.

The final reason was of course, fear. Fear of rejection, fear of disappointing Willow, fear that she wouldn't be able to say 'no' to him and that they would cease to be equals. Mostly though, it was fear of what would happen if they dated and broke up. Without Willow in his life Xander would have turned out so differently that he would have been virtually unrecognizable. So he had turned off his feeling for Willow as a woman and held her in his heart as a best friend and there she was to this day.

There had been Cordelia, all passion and fire. She was his first real love. When they had been together it was either great or terrible, Xander had never experienced more drastic highs and lows in a relationship than he had with Cordy. To this day, what had happened with Cordelia stung. He still didn't have any kind of reason for the shenanigans that had happened between Willow and himself, but Xander acknowledged that it was their fault and that their timing had well and truly sucked. Still and all, kissing someone while dating someone else had been a hallmark of Cordelia's dating history as Raul the cabana boy could attest. However when the shoe was on the other foot, it was an unforgivable sin. Xander had never called Cordy on her hypocrisy and he had thought that they had ended on a good note with the prom dress and what not. But apparently that was just in Xander's mind because he'd never heard from her after she'd left Sunnydale. She had talked to Willow and Buffy and apparently fallen in love with Angel, but never a note or call or word of any kind and considering everything that they had been through; that neglect had cut the deepest.

Then there had been Anya; blunt, greedy, living life at full tilt, Anya. Living with her had been a constant brain melt as far as Xander was concerned. The way her mind had worked and the things that she'd said often left him just gaping at her in disbelief but there was not one insincere bone in her body. It was funny that in his life, Xander's biggest regret also happened to be what he considered his smartest move and that was walking out on his wedding. Smart because neither of them had been ready and he knew it, a regret because he hadn't had the balls to talk to her sooner than he had. Again, his timing had well and truly sucked.

Xander concluded that his relationships with both Anya and Cordy had imploded for one reason, Buffy. Not because he had been in love with her. He hadn't been in love with Buffy since her little dance of humiliation at the beginning of their junior year. Sure, there'd been flares of hope now and again, that summer before Sunnydale went to hell was one; but in his heart of hearts Xander knew that he and Buffy would never be a couple. No the reason that Buffy had obliquely destroyed those relationships was because Xander had not been able to give either girl his whole heart. He had issues, unresolved Buffy issues; and until he cleared the decks, so to speak, any relationship that he tried to have would suffer. That issue was a question; why? Why was it that Buffy had dated anything with a Y chromosome that had crossed her path except Xander? For over fifteen years he'd been too shit scared to ask her that and now Xander realized that he both needed and feared that answer.

Maybe that was why he and Faith had been so perfect for each other, Xander mused. They had similar backgrounds, similar likes and dislikes, the same darkness inside that the others either hid or denied and they had the same Buffy issues. Not that Faith had wanted to date Buffy, but she did wonder why Buffy had sided against her at almost every turn when she had first shown up in Sunnydale. For a brief while they had been the chosen two, and from Faith's point of view, Buffy had thrown that away to spend time with people who could never truly understand her. Sadly, Faith had died before she'd got up the courage to ask Buffy her question.

Now there was Ziva and for her, Xander was finally ready to ask that question. She was amazing and deserved nothing less than his whole heart. He leaned forward and lowered the railing on her bed and then; still in his chair, he leaned forward even more and rested his head on her abdomen, his right arm stretching across her body, his eye toward her face. It wasn't comfortable but it felt right and in that position he finally went to sleep.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

Gibbs and DiNozzo were accompanying Eli and his inevitable body guard to the hospital. Conversation had been light although Eli had raised the subject of Xander a couple of times.

"So you truly do not know who he really works for?"

"No," Gibbs replied yet again. "I asked the director and the director asked SecNav and Leon was told that it was above his pay grade which means it's above mine as well."

Eli just grunted at this and wondered if any of his other contacts would have more information. Perhaps the bugs that he'd managed to plant on Harris' desk would tell them something, but his main hope was that Ziva would know; she did owe him after all. A part of him realized that this was not how a father should treat his daughter but Eli would be the first to admit that he was not the ideal parent.

They arrived at the hospital and the two NCIS agents escorted Eli and his escort to Ziva's room. Gibbs had paused and started to say something outside the room but Eli just walked past him and entered only to freeze in the doorway as he was met with a blindingly fast cross draw and found himself staring down the business end of what appeared to be a .45 automatic.

"Stand down Harris," Gibbs called from outside the room.

The one eyed man paused, giving Eli more than a cursory glance. Then he released the hammer and with a showy twirl, holstered the gun. "Sorry," the man said, looking for all the world like a penitent schoolboy but Eli saw the truth behind that eye and knew that if he had been any kind of threat, well things would have ended differently.

"You are protecting my daughter," Eli said. "There is no reason to be sorry."

"Xander Harris sir," he said rising and extending his hand.

"Eli David, I want to thank you for saving her last night."

"I only wish I'd been a bit faster sir;" Xander replied.

"There are times that we all wish that," Eli replied with a bit of a sigh.

Xander just nodded, "I'll leave you two alone," he said and stooped quickly to give her a chaste kiss; his billowing greatcoat offering the two of them the temporary illusion of privacy. As the young man turned and left, Ziva's wistful smile told Eli more than he wanted to know; and he stood there silently as Xander left the room.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

"What have we got?" Xander asked Gibbs as soon as the door was closed.

"How are you doing?" Gibbs asked in response.

"I caught a couple of hours here, I'm good," Xander replied. "Now what do we have on this?"

"Go in and help McGee," Gibbs replied with a bit of a smirk. "We'll keep an eye on things here."

"Fine," Xander replied with a sour look, realizing that he'd have to wait for answers. "I'll see you guys in a bit."

As he was walking away, Gibbs called out, "Nice restraint with Eli."

"Thanks Boss."

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

"So that is the young man I've heard so much about?"

"Yes father."

"And your assignment?"

"I believe him to be responsible for the death that you suspected; but I caution you not to pursue this matter."

"Why?"

"Because Israel does not need a war that it cannot win and killing Alexander would bring that on," Ziva said heatedly. "Xander killed that man for one reason only; he was responsible for the death of Xander's fiancé. Pursuing a man for avenging those he cares for is beneath you father."

"I wonder if your feelings are not clouding your judgment Ziva," Eli shot back.

"That is possible," Ziva conceded "but I want you to consider this father. I know that Alexander has conclusive proof that the operation that killed his fiancé was at your behest and yet when he saw you he was nothing but polite. This is not the action of a man mindlessly consumed by vengeance but the action of a dangerous and deadly opponent who waits for the opportune moment to strike and that is no doubt indicative of the organization he works for. Would it not be wiser to eliminate the threat with a simple apology rather than begin an action that I honestly believe most of your people would not walk away from?"

Eli took a good look at his daughter. He knew that Ziva was adept at many things, but hiding her feelings from him had never been one of them. He was startled to realize that she meant exactly what she had said, if a conflict ever arose between whatever shadowy organization that Alexander Harris worked for and the Mossad, Ziva expected the Mossad to come off much the worse. It truly piqued his curiosity, making him want to know more about who this mysterious group was and what they did. All that, though; was incidental to why he was here and Eli shuttled the entire topic to the back of his head, sorry now that he hadn't started out with what was truly important. "How are you, daughter?"

"I am fine; the bullet seems to have just gone through without hitting anything truly vital. The doctors seem surprised at that but I will not question my good fortune."

"Nor will I," Eli replied. Then he sat on the corner of her bed and caught up with his daughter's life. Eli wasn't an ideal parent; this did not mean he could not be a better one for his daughter.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

When he got back to NCIS, Xander felt like he was gonna explode if he didn't get any answers but he was doing his best to dial back his impatience. That still didn't stop him from barking out, "What have we got McGee," in his best Gibbs voice.

Tim jumped, and then realizing who it was; shot Xander a class one glare.

"Seriously Tim, what have you guys come up with since the shooting?"

Mollified, McGee explained what everyone had come up with and the leads that they were now pursuing. When he was done, Xander turned to him, "So McGee, why kill Petty Officer Mitchel? Was there a purpose to it or was it just a matter of them needing a body to lure Ziva into a situation where they could strike?"

"I've got to believe that there was a purpose," McGee answered. "I'm thinking that he just took advantage of Ziva being where she was afterwards."

Xander stood thinking for a second and then leaned over and called Ducky. "Hey Ducky, I've got a couple of questions for you."

"First of all it's good to see you well Alexander and I wanted to thank you for taking care of both Ziva and yourself."

"You're welcome Ducky."

"Now, what can I do for you?"

"Have you had a chance to check on heroin overdoses by military personnel over in Afghanistan?"

"Yes I have," Ducky replied. I regret to say that there have been a few."

"Any where it was surprising?" Xander asked. "You know what I mean, no history of drug use before the OD?"

"Yes, there were a couple fairly recently," the old ME replied.

"Cargo handlers?" Tim asked from over Xander's shoulder. He had figured out where the one-eyed man had been going with this.

"Indeed Timothy," Ducky replied. "Both were involved with shipping home the deceased."

"So how did Petty Officer Mitchel die?" Xander asked.

"One bullet to the back of the head," Ducky answered promptly.

".22 I bet," Xander said.

"Correct," Ducky told them.

"But why shoot her, if you've got a way that works and doesn't attract a lot of attention, why break that pattern?" Tim wanted to know.

"Because she surprised them," Xander said, eye slightly out of focus. "She surprised them and they had to improvise." He turned back to the screen, "what did she eat before she died?" Xander wanted to know. "And had she been fooling around?"

"I haven't gotten that far dear boy, but I'll let you know," Ducky replied and killed the connection.

Next Xander called Abby. "How did you know that I'd just found something?"

"Just lucky I guess," Xander replied. "So, you just finished the ballistics work and you're about to tell me that Petty Officer Mitchel was killed with a .22 at close range and that the powder residue in her hair tells you that it was military ammo. You're also about to tell me that one of the guns found on the jerks that went after Ziva and me was registered to PO Mitchel."

Abby stared at him gape mouthed for a second. "Are you sure you're not related to Gibbs?" she finally asked.

"Nah, he just loaned me his mojo while I'm here and he's at the hospital," Xander replied with a smirk.

"Okay then, just make sure you give it back," she said with a grin and a glare.

"I will," Xander said. "Oh, and Abby, could you come up here and pick something up when you've got a moment?"

"Sure," the goth replied, "what is it?"

"It's what those goons were after. I'll let you take a crack at figuring out why it's so important and when you're done I'll let Tim take his swings."

"You will huh," Abby said with a laugh. "Who put you in charge?"

"Sorry," Xander said with a grin. "I'm just used to being in charge."

"Okay, but don't get too comfortable with it," Abby teased. "I'll be up there in a few minutes."

"No worries on that score," Xander laughed and went over to Ziva's desk. It only took him a few seconds to find what he was looking for and set it out so he wouldn't forget where it was. Then he turned to Tim, "So what are you thinking?"

"I'm still wondering why they killed someone who is in charge of resupplying ships."

"I imagine that what whoever is supplying the herion want for payment doesn't always fit into an airplane," Xander replied.

"You think that whoever is behind this had her killed so that the organization would have someone in place who could ship large items to parties unknown without anyone asking questions?"

"It's a theory."

"Then how would the guy in charge be sure that his agent would replace PO Mitchel?"

"Who chooses the replacement?"

"You think that Mitchel's CO was in on this?"

"No idea, but it is a theory," Xander replied. "So what should we do next?" Xander asked.

"Look into the CO and Mitchel's replacement and then bring them in if we find anything hinky."

"And while you're doing that, I'll look for heroin OD's in the chain of command that handles the bodies that arrive here. They'd come in at Andrew's; right?"

"Yeah," McGee answered absently, already focused on finding out everything he could about Captain Madison, Mitchel's CO.

Five minutes later Abby was up in the bull pen. Xander had her glove up and then handed her the ring box that Cruz had given Ziva. As Abby all but sprinted back to her lab to get started, Xander went back to looking for mysterious deaths.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

It had been three hours and Gibbs was due back any time now. Xander looked up from his computer screen and blinked hard, his eye felt as dry as the Sahara. It was time to see what everyone had come up with so they could figure out where to focus. It hadn't taken long to figure out who was doing the catching at Andrew's but trying to determine how high up the food chain it went was a bit more of a problem than Xander's computer skills were able to deal with. He did have some intriguing bits of information for Tim to play with, though. "Hey Tim, lets head down to Abby's and go over what we've come up with; what do you say?"

"Sounds good," McGee replied. "I feel like my brains about to spontaneously combust as it is right now."

Pausing only to make a call to Ducky so that he would meet them at Abby's both Xander and Tim headed for the elevator. It opened just as Tim reached for the button and when it opened, Gibbs and DiNozzo were there.

"We're just headed down to Abby's to put what we've got together," Xander told them. Gibbs just nodded and stepped back. As Xander and Tim got on the elevator, Tony pushed the button.

"How's Ziva," Tim asked.

"She's good," Tony replied. "She was fighting with the doctors when we left because she's wanting to be up and moving around already and they're trying to keep her in bed for another twenty four hours."

"I'm glad I'm here," Xander muttered and grins of understanding broke out on the others as everyone pictured Ziva in wrath mode. Before anything else could be said, the elevator stopped and collectively they headed for Abby's lab.

"What have we got Abs?" Gibbs asked as soon as they were through the door.

The young woman turned and leapt into his arms, "I'm so glad to see you Gibbs and to see that Xander gave you your mojo back."

"Good to know, now what do we have?"

"I believe I'll start," Ducky chimed in. Following some suggestions as to where to look, I believe I know how this particular group is getting their disgusting product into the country. I noted on some of the coroner reports from Afghanistan that the bodies being returned had lost arms or legs or other necessities of nature and yet the weight of the bodies was the same as when they were alive."

"So if someone is dismembered or has his guts blown out, these guys make up the weight in heroin?" Tony asked.

"That's a bit more crass than I would have put it, but you have the gist of it Anthony," Ducky replied.

"We suspect the pitchers are two morgue attendants at Bagram, I'm still trying to figure out if it goes any higher up the food chain," Xander cut in. "The catcher's are on the same detail at Andrew's."

"And the CO here?" Gibbs asked.

"Looks dirty but we need someone with better computer skills than me to look at him," Xander replied.

"And how does Petty Officer Mitchel fit into all of this?" Gibbs wanted to know.

"Current theory is that the suppliers might just want their payment in something other than cash," McGee said. "So far that looks like a good theory and Mitchel's CO just recently paid off some rather large debts to some less than reputable people, so I'd bet that it stops with him."

"Is he how they knew to ambush Ziva and Harris?" Gibbs asked.

"No, we're sure that there's someone else behind the scenes," Abby said. "The problem is that I'm not sure who we're dealing with."

"What do you mean Abby," Tony asked.

"Well, Xander gave me the ring box that Ray Cruz handed to Ziva and of course it has her prints on it and another set that I assumed belonged to Ray Cruz but they didn't match what the CIA had on file for him."

"You're kidding," Tony, Tim and Gibbs all blurted out.

"Nope," Abby replied with a smirk. "Now I don't know if this just isn't Ray Cruz or if he changed his file at CIA but for whatever reasons, they don't match."

"So basically we have no idea who this is?"

"Not quite," Abby said. "These particular finger prints have been found at several crime scenes in the world over the last decade. I'm back tracing them now to see if there's a pattern, but that's gonna take time."

"So how did this guy plan the ambush?"

"As best as we can tell," McGee started. "Whoever this is had a hidden camera at PO Mitchel's home and when he heard our plans he acted accordingly. I checked and the calls to Lexcorp were added later to PO Mitchel's phone log so they weren't real. Anyway, by checking the signals that came out of the house and out of Lexcorp, I'm working on triangulating the boss man's home base or at least his phone but like Abby said, it's gonna take time."

"Was there anything else on the box or in it?" Tony asked.

"There was a serial number, but I haven't had time to work on it," Abby replied.

Gibbs stood there for a moment, thinking about what had been discovered. Then he looked at his team. "DiNozzo, you take what McGee has on Mitchel's CO and dig, I want this guy's ass on a platter. Also call the DEA, see what they have on a new heroin ring operating on the East Coast. McGee, track down what that serial number means, top priority. Abby, you keep tracking those fingerprints and I'll take Harris' work on the catchers here at Andrew's and run with that."

"And me?"

"Xander, you get your ass back to the hospital and guard Ziva."

"Now that's a mission I can get behind," Xander said with a tight grin. He then started walking towards the elevator and his movement broke the strange stasis that had held everyone still. Everyone practically sprinted to carry out their assignment as Gibbs watched while wearing a proud smile.

"You've done a wonderful job Jethro," Ducky murmured.

"Thanks Ducky," Gibbs replied.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

In her wildest dreams, Ziva would not have imagined a conversation like the one she was currently having. She was talking with her father and had been for the last hour or so and it wasn't a father/daughter conversation or even a mentor/student conversation; it was a conversation between two adults, two equal adults. She had never known her father to be so casual or at ease with anyone before, it was new and a bit unsettling. That is until she realized that in a very real way, she was all that he had left. Ari and Talia were both dead and her mother had walked away from him; she was all that he had in the world. Once Ziva had come to understand this, her side of the conversation had grown easier as well.

"Have you spoken to mother lately?" Ziva asked, her tone curious without being accusatory.

"Yes, I have actually," Eli replied. "She enjoys being away from all of the political nonsense that she had to put up with in Jerusalem. She misses you and wishes that you would call more, but I believe she understands how busy you are."

"Is there any chance . . . . .," Ziva began.

"Of us getting back together," Eli concluded. "It is possible, we parted peacefully if not amicably. Maybe once I set down the reins at the Mossad and I can simply be Eli David. At that time we will see, but until then I do not see us reuniting."

"Are you serious about retiring?" Ziva asked, surprised. She had never heard her father mention retirement before.

"I am not sure daughter," he replied. "The world has changed so much since I started this. There are times when I'm not sure if I'm doing Israel more harm than good."

"We all have doubts father," Ziva replied earnestly. "We all examine our lives and wonder if we are doing the right thing."

"Indeed, I look back and wonder what my life would be like if I had made different choices as a younger man."

"What would you have done differently?" Ziva wondered.

"Many things," Eli said with a smile. He was about to say more when his silent bodyguard tapped him on the shoulder. He looked at his watch and grimaced then he looked back at Ziva. "Unfortunately I have some diplomatic niceties to see too right now, but I will be back." His face became serious, "Will you be alright by yourself?"

"I will be fine for now," Ziva replied. "I expect Xander to be back here at any moment."

"Good," Eli said. He started to leave and then turned back; "I do want to talk to you about your young man before I leave."

"As long as we talk," Ziva emphasized.

"Of course," Eli replied catching her meaning. "Be well daughter."

"Be safe father," Ziva answered.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

The more Gibbs looked at the evidence they'd compiled, the angrier he got. Someone was violating the bodies of fallen Marines to smuggle drugs into the United States.

"Hey Boss?"

"Yeah DiNozzo?"

"Captain Williams, Mitchel's CO; has a second bank account. It looks like he's using that for some major purchases like a vacation home in Florida and a boat. His Navy checks are direct deposit and so are his wife's and all of that goes to their joint account so there's no paper trail leading to this second account. I gotta believe that it's dirty."

"Keep looking DiNozzo," Gibbs said. "Talk to the wife, see what she knows."

"On it Boss," Tony replied.

"What have you got McGee?" Gibbs asked after Tony picked up his phone.

"The box is from a custom jeweler in Miami, I've got a call in to them to find out everything I can about whatever it is that goes with this number." As he was talking, his laptop started beeping. "Boss," Tim said, turning his attention to the computer.

"What is it McGee?"

"I've been able to triangulate those signals."

"And?"

"It's a mobile device," Tim said. "I was able to triangulate using the two different signals it received from the remote cameras."

"And where is this mobile device now?"

"Ummmmm."

"Where is it McGee," Gibbs barked out.

"Inova Alexandria Hospital, Boss," McGee said quietly.

"Call Ziva and let her know," Gibbs said as he was pulling his phone out. His fingers flew over the pad and then he was waiting for an answer.

"Harris."

"Xander," Gibbs barked out. "He's at the hospital."

"So am I," Xander replied over the phone.

"Keep her safe Harris," Gibbs said moving towards the elevator. "I'm on my way."


	28. The Darkness Pulls in Everything pt 4

THE DARKNESS PULLS IN EVERYTHING pt. 4

As soon as he cut off Gibbs' call, Xander made two calls as he started to move through the hospital. "Maria," he loudly called out when the phone was picked up a second time.

"…."

"Pull everyone tight on Ziva's room," he said. "The guy pulling the strings is in the building."

"…."

"I'll be there as soon as I can," he replied and hung up; concentrating on getting to Ziva's room as fast as possible. He spotted both Diana and Surayya on his way to Ziva's room and both junior slayers fell in behind him. Maria was just outside the door and gave a slight nod as Xander walked up. He gave his daughter a small smile and entered the room. And immediately froze. Ziva had reacted just as her training had dictated and was ready to defend herself with deadly force as the sharpened piece of metal that she was currently pointed at Xander. He saw the point waver as she recognized who had walked in the door and he hurried over and sat on the side of her bed.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm getting better," she allowed. To Xander though, it was clear that the effort at picking up the heavy pole had tired her out. "Why are you here," she asked.

"The guys back at the office did some good work and Tim managed to track the guy who's been pulling the strings in the background and he's here at the hospital. I'm here now and Gibbs is on his way." Xander saw the moment of worry in her eyes but then she relaxed.

"Thank you," she replied and then looked back into his eye. "And my father?"

"Has been informed," Xander told her. She then relaxed and leaned into him and for a moment Ziva seemed to pull strength from him.

"So what have you found out?" she murmured.

Sitting there, Xander laid it all out for her; the smuggling ring, its members and probable evolution; the theory behind PO Mitchel's death and her CO's probable involvement and finally, the discrepancy in the fingerprints. "So we're not honestly sure if this is the real Ray Cruz or not," he ended.

"I am fairly certain that it is," Ziva said.

"You already checked him out, didn't you?"

"Yes and his fingerprints matched those on file at the CIA when we were together," Ziva replied.

"So Ray is planning on becoming a ghost and he needed anyone and anything out of the way that could conclusively identify him," Xander surmised.

"And that is why he both came after me and needed the box," Ziva concluded.

It was then that Xander's phone started ringing.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

Gibbs was just pulling up to the hospital when his phone rang. "What," he growled out as soon as the phone was live.

"Boss," McGee's hesitant voice came over the line.

"What is it McGee?"

"A report just came in about a Navy doctor who apparently went nuts and is threatening to kill a bunch of re-habbing soldiers in his care."

"So a hostage situation," Gibbs said. "And it's at this hospital, isn't it?"

"Second floor, therapy wing," McGee replied.

"That's about as far away from Ziva's room as possible, isn't it?"

"Pretty much Boss," McGee replied.

"You and DiNozzo get over here ASAP," Gibbs said, moving again. As soon as the orders were out of his mouth he hung up on McGee and hit another speed dial.

"Xander," the voice answered.

"Harris, you're with Ziva right now, correct?"

"Yes sir," Xander replied.

"We've currently got a doctor holding hostages in the therapy wing," Gibbs informed him.

Gibbs was surprised at the depth and creativity of the swearing that followed; he was actually tempted to take notes. Finally Xander said, "You realize that this is a diversion, right."

"Yeah, but are you willing to take the risk that the perp isn't prepared to kill?"

Xander swore some more and then muttered, "I hate clever scumbags."

"Meet me there," Gibbs said and cut the call as he hurried towards the therapy wing to try and keep a bad situation from getting worse.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

Xander was nearly snarling as he cut off the call from Gibbs. "What is it?" Ziva asked.

"Some Navy doctor is threatening to kill a bunch of rehabilitating soldiers in this very hospital."

"It is a diversion," Ziva said definitively.

"Of course it's a diversion," Xander agreed. "But what sucks is that we can't take the chance that this looney tune won't actually kill someone. That's a fact that you can be sure our little string puller is very much aware of."

Ziva was about to say something else when a nurse walked through the door. As she was allowed in by the girls, Xander figured the nurse was legit, that didn't mean he was trusting her or anything, it only meant that he wasn't on DEFCON 1. "I need to check her before the therapist gets here," the young woman said.

"I need to get going anyway," Xander replied and slid off Ziva's bed. Then he turned and bending low over her, kissed Ziva deeply. At first Ziva's eyes opened wide and were filled with questions but then she melted into the kiss.

"Be careful," she said as Xander stood up.

"You too," Xander replied and headed for the door. He burst through and started off in the direction of the therapy wing. Xander was so focused that he didn't realize that he'd picked up a shadow.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

Ziva put up with the nurse's fussing and seemingly incessant chatter. Right before Ziva was ready to blow and tell the young woman just exactly what she thought about being where she was, the nurse exhibited her survival instinct and left the room in a flurry of platitudes. Ziva lay back and attempted to relax after the annoyingly cheerful woman was gone. Sadly, her attempt at relaxation was short lived because less than two minutes after the nurse had left, the door opened again and a young man in a nurses uniform walked in. Ziva did not even look up as this was clearly the therapist that the nurse had mentioned and she was focused on getting her bed adjusted just right. Finally she had it perfectly adjusted and she looked up into a pair of very familiar eyes. "Hello Ziva," the man said.

"Ray," Ziva replied with ice in her voice. "I cannot say that it is either a surprise or a pleasure."

"So you were expecting me?" Ray asked with false good humor.

"After what your little mercenary crew was asking about, it was obvious." She leaned forward a bit, "and after a little bit of research, what you are doing became clear as well."

"Then I imagine that you have a lot of questions."

"No," Ziva replied, "I only have one."

"And that would be?"

"Was any of it real?" she asked.

He did not pretend to misunderstand. "You are a very attractive woman, Ziva," he finally answered.

"Which both does and doesn't answer my question," Ziva said after a moment of thought. "You needed protection and aside from my own personal skills, my status as the daughter of the director of Mossad would give you that." She lapsed into silence as the different thoughts whirled through her head. "You are here to kill me, the silenced .22 you have concealed with that clip board tells me that much," she started. "However since you are trying to fall off the grid, you need the ring box and all the information that has been gathered so far." She looked up sharply, "which means that you've sent someone to NCIS to get the box back and 'take care of' anyone who can connect you to all of this."

"Indeed, Agents DiNozzo and McGee will have to be removed as well as Ms. Sciuto and Dr. Mallard. I do this with reluctance except in the case of agent DiNozzo; I won't feel bad about his death. Once you and they are out of the way I will only have to deal with Gibbs, and I believe he can be handled."

"I think you are foolish to believe that, and you are forgetting Alexander as well as my father."

"Agent Gibbs is past his prime Ziva and as for the man you replaced me with . . . ."

"Do not flatter yourself, Xander is far superior to you; a weak man who aspires to be a drug lord," Ziva interrupted.

"However, he has other obligations and no real standing anywhere except in the realm of the supernatural," Ray continued smoothly.

"You knew?" Ziva asked, surprised for the first time.

"I have for some time," Ray said with a bit of a smirk. "And while I will concede that Alexander would be a formidable opponent; I am a human criminal preying on humans and as such out of his jurisdiction."

"And my father?"

"To quote the Godfather, he'll be made an offer he can't refuse, even if it means giving up on avenging his eldest daughter."

"How?" Ziva started but the rest of the words wouldn't come. Then she straightened up in her bed, earlier questions forgotten; "So you are going to kill me now?"

"Reluctantly my dear," Ray Cruz said as he revealed the silenced .22.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Xander started moving cautiously when he saw everyone running in the other direction. Soon enough he was clear of the mob and it was clear that the Therapy wing was just ahead. Moving even more cautiously he eased through the door and poked his head around a corner. Gibbs was standing behind one of a series of pillars that were at one end of a large room. There were men and women, some in uniform some not, towards the middle of the room and from the direction they were looking Xander could easily pick out the guy causing the trouble.

He was almost the stereotype of the gruff doctor with the hidden heart of gold; tall with dark hair going grey at the temples with a glaringly bright white coat. The man was currently standing near some implements that offered a bit of cover with a young woman in front of him as a shield. She had corporals' stripes and a prosthetic arm while the doctor had what looked to be a 9 mm in his left hand. Xander cleared his throat and Gibbs' eyes flicked over and saw him for the first time. Xander saw his shoulders relax just a little and then Gibbs' eyes flicked over to his left. Xander took a look in that direction and nodded slightly, there were several places on that side of the room that would offer him some cover as well as the possibility of flanking this nut job.

"You still there Gibbs," the perp called out.

"I'm here," Gibbs called back. As he did, Xander used the noise to cover his move from around the corner. Fortunately the doctor didn't notice the movement. Xander pulled one of his Colts and carefully scanned the room and realized that they were on a time table that had nothing to do with getting back to Ziva. All of the hostages were military and despite being short a limb or two, few of them would stand by idly while being threatened with a gun. If he and Gibbs couldn't end this quickly then it would end poorly. Xander prepared to move again when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was all he could do to not jump out of his skin.

He whipped around, desperately trying to bring his gun to bear. But then he froze as he realized who it was behind him.

"Hey Xander," Buffy said in a whisper. "Is this usual for you or did I come on a bad day?"

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

They had ghosted onto the Navy yard swiftly and yet without detection. They hurried without looking like they were hurrying because they knew that the clock was already ticking on this one. Two were dressed as Royal Marines, one as a Sub-Lieutenant in the Australian Navy and one as a civilian. The uniforms allowed those wearing them to blend in at the Yard without actually impersonating American officers. Even though they were coming in from different directions, the target was the same for all of them, the NCIS building.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

Chip Sterling was looking forward to this, more so than he should have; maybe. He'd been rotting away in prison due to Abby, a place that had hardened Chip as it seemed to strip away his humanity. A place that he loathed above all others, but also a place that had allowed him to examine how he had arrived here and who was to blame. It had taken some time to get his head straight, but now he had and now it was his turn to deal out the pain. He'd never met the person responsible for his release only the lawyer who represented his patron. And quite honestly Chip no longer cared how his release had been secured or who had done it. He'd been offered the chance for revenge and had taken it; of course he had, he owed whoever it was everything. The elevator chimed and he stepped off when the door opened. One of the guys had already gotten off and the other two had a different assignment, that didn't matter to Chip, he got Sciuto and that was all he was interested in.

Chip stalked through the lab, confident that he would get what he wanted this time. He saw Abby turn at the noise he made walking into her lab. His smile turned crueler at the look of utter astonishment on her face as she realized who was in the same room with her. He could see the questions in her mind, how was he out, how had he gotten past security and most importantly, what was going to happen next. Chip gloried in his feeling of power at her look of fear as he raised the steel pipe he was carrying. He paused for an instant to let the shear hate wash through him. And that was when his world went dark.

He came too for just a moment, long enough to hear high pitched laughter and someone saying, "Fear the Duct Tape," over and over. He saw a blur out of the corner of his eye and then it was lights out again.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

Jimmy Palmer looked up at the sound of the elevator. He knew that everyone except Abby was out as something was going on wherever Ziva was and so no one was expected. Without even knowing why he headed in Dr. Mallard's direction, hurrying a little. Two men in fatigues, that looked off somehow, stepped off and Jimmy found himself scared for no discernable reason.

Dr. Mallard was doing a rather routine autopsy on an older Marine who had broken his neck in a training incident and did not even look up as the men walked into the lab. Jimmy kept his eyes riveted on the two men and when they both pulled their side arms, he broke into a sprint and took Dr. Mallard's legs out from under him with a textbook slide tackle. Jimmy was concerned with cushioning Dr. Mallard's fall and then his glasses were knocked off so he wasn't really aware of what was going on. He heard a few initial shots, and then the sounds of a physical struggle, followed by another gunshot and then two loud thumps. He scrambled to his feet, being sure to keep himself between Ducky and the two men when he heard an explosion of Russian profanity.

Where the two men had been, there were now two young women, one of whom was cursing a blue streak and holding onto her leg. The other, who appeared to be Asian was trying to get a look at the leg but was having a tough time because the cursing girl refused to hold still. He turned around and helped Ducky to his feet. The older man appeared to be completely unruffled by the actions of the last minute or so.

"Thank you Mr. Palmer," he said. "That was both quite heroic and a well executed move, do you play regularly?"

"You're welcome," Jimmy replied. "I just joined a recreational league," he continued feeling a bit surreal.

"Well let's see who needs stitching," Ducky said and started moving towards the two girls.

"Are you sure that it's safe?" Jimmy asked, putting his hand on the doctor's arm.

"Of course," Ducky replied. "Who do you suppose let them in?" He then shook off Jimmy's hand and proceeded over and put his arm on the shoulder of the cursing girl. "Let me see my dear."

"It is nothing doctor," the girl replied.

"Let me be the judge of that," he said firmly and led the young woman over to a table. "Could you please fetch my kit?" he asked Jimmy. Ducky then turned to the young Asian girl and said, "I would like to thank you both for saving our lives."

"You are both welcome," the wounded girl said.

"I just wish that Royal Marines were always as pretty as the two of you," Ducky said gallantly as he cut away the wounded girl's pant leg so that he could stitch her wound. He missed them both blush.

BTVS-NCIS-BTVS-NCIS

If he'd been smart, Craig Wienhart would have turned and left as soon as he saw the girl in the office. He'd drawn the easy part of this Op; retrieve a ring box while the other three took care of the loose ends on the lower levels. He'd been told that the area he needed to search would be empty as the people who would regularly be there had been called away.

"Can I help you?" the girl asked as Craig approached. She looked to be about fifteen and spoke with a hint of a southern accent.

"I was sent to pick up something from Ziva David's desk," Craig replied. "I'm her dad's liaison with the Navy while he's here and apparently there's something in her desk that he wanted."

"That's it over there," the girl replied, pointing to the desk with the flag of Israel on it.

"I know, but thanks," Craig said as he sat behind the desk. He appeared calm but inside he was trying to figure out how to contain the situation, being seen had never been part of the plan. "You look a bit young to be here," he said, trying to figure out who the girl was.

"I'm Sarah McGee," the girl replied. "I was supposed to meet my brother here but obviously he got called away without bothering to let me know," she huffed with that overly affected tone that only little sisters can manage to achieve.

Craig relaxed a little, Sarah McGee was a name that had come up in the pre-mission briefing and so her presence here was just one of those bad coincidences. If he kept his cool, he would be able to walk out of here with no one being the wiser. He rifled the desk as the girl prattled on about her inconsiderate brother. Craig let the words wash over him as he focused on the task at hand. Reluctantly he realized that what he was looking for wasn't here which meant he'd have to search the other desks as well. The question was how to do that without alerting the girl that something weird was going on.

As he thought about the girl, Craig realized that something was tickling the back of his mind. As he stood to face the girl it hit him, Sarah McGee was in college, not fifteen. Craig's mind started racing and he instantly realized what he had to do. He was carrying a telescoping baton called an Asp which he reached for, his hand nearly blurring with speed. He whipped it out and around as it snapped to its full length. He was aiming low, trying to incapacitate the girl without doing any permanent damage when everything jarred to a halt way too soon.

This little girl, who couldn't have been over 110 pounds if she was soaking wet, had stopped his arm with her left hand. It actually felt like he'd hit a wall and his shoulder was hurting from the impact. He then looked down and realized two things; one was the twelve inch Bowie knife that was in her right hand and resting, blade up, underneath his groin; the second was the promise in her eyes that if he tried anything the knife would be used. Craig was a lot of things, but stupid wasn't one of them. He dropped the baton and raised his hands. The knife eased up a bit, much to his relief.

"You must be one of Harris'," a voice called out from the stairs. Craig turned slightly to see Director Vance leaning over the second floor walkway.

"Yes sir," the girl replied.

"Are there any more?"

"Three, but they've all been handled," the girl replied with a smirk. "One of ours was grazed but Dr. Mallard is stitching her up," she continued.

"Carry on then," Vance said after a pause and started back towards his office. "And don't break him too much," he called back over his shoulder.

"Yes sir," the girl replied with an evil grin and motioned with her knife.

Craig sighed; he'd definitely had better days.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It took Xander a second or two to get his head on straight and when he couldn't count all the questions that were running through his brain. He shook his head and shoved all that aside for now, he had a situation to deal with and a potential solution had just shown up. "It's great to see you Buffy, but do you think we could do the light banter thing later, cause I could really use your help."

"Sure Xander," Buffy replied, "What do you need?"

"You see that guy with the gun?" Xander asked tipping his head in the crazy man's direction.

"Kinda hard not to," she replied in a 'DUH' tone of voice.

"I was thinking that you could sneak around and get behind him and then throw something to knock him out?"

"Why?" Buffy wanted to know.

"Because all the folks that he's holding hostage are either soldiers or ex-soldiers and they're gonna do something heroic real soon if we don't end this quick. And when soldiers do something heroic, people die. I'd like to avoid that."

Buffy just nodded and went to move off when Xander grabbed her shoulder and moved in close. "Two things Buff," he whispered fiercely. "The first is don't make yourself a target, you can heal from a lot of things but a bullet in the head is even fatal for a Slayer." He saw her reluctantly nod and he continued. "The second is don't hit the guy too lightly. If you don't put him out, then he's gonna start shooting on general principles and while I'm good and Gibbs is great, there's no certainty that we'd get him before he could kill someone. So if you have a choice, hit him too hard instead of too lightly."

"And if it kills him?" Buffy asked, mildly appalled.

"Then he dies and I help you deal with the grief because I don't have a lot of sympathy for someone who points guns at cripples."

Reluctantly Buffy nodded again, Xander's logic was cold but correct; better one bad guy die than take innocents with him. She ghosted away to his left and Xander turned his attention back to the perp. It was time to give Buffy some cover. He eased up and aimed his Colt at what he could see of the perp. "You want me to go ahead and take the shot Gibbs?" he called out.

The doctor's reaction was everything Xander could have hoped for. He jerked and then looked around wildly before finally spotting what little of Xander was exposed. He also turned more towards Xander and this gave Gibbs a better shot than he had before.

"Have you got a shot?" Gibbs asked.

Okay, it was time to screw with the nut bag's head. "Of course, I can see him, can't I?" he replied. "Come on Gibbs, you've seen me shoot."

"True," Gibbs replied after a moment of thought. "So which would be your first choice?"

"Well, I've got the right side of his head if we want to just kill the bastard, or most of both legs are visible," and then Xander's voice brightened. "Hey, I've got an idea," he said. "Hey, doc fruitcake," he called out.

"Yeah," the doctor with the gun called out.

"Which finger do you want to lose?"

"What?"

"Well, I was gonna shoot the gun out of your hand, so I wanted to know which finger you wanted to lose." Xander replied. "Now I can't take off your trigger finger cause than might cause the gun to fire so it has to be one of the others and I figured that you should probably get that call."

"Huh?" the perp asked, obviously he wasn't quite with the program yet.

"I'm gonna shoot the gun out of your hand and you are gonna lose a finger when I do, so the question to you is, which finger do you want to lose?" Xander said slowly, like he was explaining something to a child. "Or maybe I should just shatter your elbow," Xander mused out loud.

"You're crazy," the man finally called out. "Cops aren't allowed to do stuff like that, I know my rights."

"Well I'm not a cop so as far as I'm concerned, you've got shit for rights," Xander fired back. "Pulling a gun on a bunch of unarmed people puts you lower than whale shit in my book," he continued. "So taking you apart piece by piece or just putting one between your eyes is not gonna make me lose any sleep. Now, for the last time, which finger do you want to lose or do I choose for you?" Xander could see the guy sweating now, this kind of talk was definitely not in the standard playbook and the perp had no idea on how to react.

Gibbs moved yet again, getting closer to a clear shot. Harris had the guy's attention entirely, allowing Gibbs to move quickly. He had to admit that as far as a distraction went, it was masterful. The only thing he worried about was that Harris wasn't bluffing and really did intend to blow the jerk's hand off. He was just looking out from this new vantage point when he heard a whistling sound followed by a thump. Gibbs watched as the guy with the gun just froze and then slumped, clearly out of it. Figuring that he should secure first and ask questions later, he came out with his gun up and yelled, "Everybody freeze!" He covered the room as Harris approached the downed man, moving carefully, his head moving slightly as he worked to survey the whole room while still keeping an eye on the man on the floor. Gibbs watched as Harris stepped on the man's wrist with his left foot while kicking the thing away with his right all the while his eyes were on the perp, just looking for any sign of movement. The gun skittered across the floor and ended up next to a therapy ball; something about the size of a baseball, but softer. Finally Xander holstered his gun and helped the young corporal to her feet. She gave him a brief hug and then broke it as Harris knelt down to check on the hostage taker's condition.

Gibbs was holstering his weapon as well as he walked up, then he almost pulled it again when a voice at his elbow asked, "Is he gonna be okay, Xander?"

"Who the hell are you?" Gibbs asked the blond girl who seemed to have materialized at his side but she ignored him waiting for Harris to answer.

"He's gonna live," Xander said finally and Gibbs saw the girl relax. "As to who she is, we work together," Xander replied in a tone that cut off any more discussion.

Gibbs looked around to see that security had arrived as well as Alexandria PD. "We better go check on Ziva," Gibbs said. Harris just nodded and they took off towards Ziva's room with the mysterious blond in tow.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"You know, I thought you were smarter than this," Ziva said.

"What do you mean," Ray asked honestly looking confused.

"If you had simply disappeared it would have taken years to connect the opium ring to you and I probably would have thrown the box away on general principles long before that. But your actions have drawn so much attention to it that even if you kill everyone who currently knows about it, you will be a marked man for the rest of your life. Despite what you say, the Mossad will be after you, Alexander's organization will be after you and since Director Vance knows everything that we do, the American government will be after you as well. That is quite a collection of enemies for one man."

"The number of enemies is irrelevant if they cannot find you," Ray replied. Then his eyes twinkled, "The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing everyone that he doesn't exist."

Ziva just looked at the man gape mouthed for a second and then looked up, "What is it with men quoting movies." Then she looked back at Ray, "You are seriously quoting 'The Usual Suspects' right now."

"It seems appropriate," Ray said and started to level the pistol.

Just then the door swung open and a young woman walked in looking at a clipboard; she was dressed as a candy striper. At the noise of her entrance, Ray swung the .22 in her direction.

Seeing her chance Ziva raised the Walther that Xander had slipped her earlier, she was desperately trying to bring it to bear before Ray could kill yet another innocent. Rather than taking the time to pull it, Ziva just raised it under the sheet making an odd looking tent on her bed.

Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, Ray Cruz turned back toward the woman in the bed even as the pistol in his hand was coming to bear on the newcomer. He was trying to make sense of what he was seeing in Ziva's bed and then suddenly it became clear what was happening. As Ray realized the magnitude of his mistake there was a flash of light and then all was dark.

Maria watched calmly as the man's body hit the floor. Ignoring the spatter of blood and brains on the wall, she quickly bent down and pulled the small pistol from his unresisting hand. As she stood, Maria faced Ziva. Taking in the smoking hole in the sheet she looked the older woman in the eyes, "Thank you," she said.

"Thank you for the distraction," Ziva answered.

"We take care of our own," Maria said simply.

"But I'm not . . . .," Ziva began.

"Yes you are," Maria replied. "You all are."

Just then Xander and Gibbs burst through the door, guns drawn. Seeing Maria and then Ray with most of his head gone, the guns were lowered and Xander hurried over to Ziva. Gibbs stood back and watched with an enigmatic smile on his face as he took in the dead body on the floor and the scene at the bed. The bad guy was dead and the good guys came out okay; all was right with the world.


	29. The Darkness Pulls in Everything pt 5

THE DARKNESS PULLS IN EVERYTHING pt. 5

Tony DiNozzo was confused and that was a state that he wasn't used to and didn't like when he was. He was used to being the one who was one up on everyone else. McGee was smarter, but his lack of real world experience often had him playing catch up to Tony's insights. Ziva had the same instincts but being somewhere that wasn't home often had her behind the curve as well. The fact was that most people were so busy dismissing him as a shallow horn dog that they underestimated him and dropped their guard too quickly and this put him even further ahead. No, it's safe to say that confused was not something that Tony was used to being.

His confusion had started when he and McGee arrived at the hospital and ran to Ziva's room only to find that she was alright, Harris was kissing her and  
CI Ray was dead on the floor with most of his brains on the wall. Actually, Tony figured he had handled that whole scene pretty well and had even managed to avoid giving Ziva the 'I told you so' smirk. But the presence of Harris' daughter and a slightly older blond had taken the situation from something weird but comprehensible and added a surreal twist that Tony just couldn't seem to wrap his mind around.

Then the local PD as well as the FBI had shown up and started taking statements. They'd talked to Ziva and Harris' daughter but when Tony looked around, the mysterious blond had somehow evaporated; simply disappeared in a room full of trained observers. Then he and McGee had followed Harris and Gibbs to where the hostage situation had taken place and there they watched as Gibbs and Harris talked to more FBI and local PD. As Tony listened and walked the scene, it was clear that something just didn't add up. There was no way that the doctor with the gun had been knocked out by either Harris or the boss and yet no one mentioned anyone else being there. Tony thought about saying something but then saw the mysterious blond in a shadowy corner of the room and her intense gaze was focused on him. Surprisingly, because she was really hot, Tony didn't feel any stirring in his libido. Instead he felt intimidated and even wary so he kept his eye on the girl and his mouth shut.

He and McGee had eventually returned to NCIS along with Gibbs, Harris and the mystery blond. When they got there, the final twist on the whole impossible situation was revealed when they had walked into Abby's lab and discovered three rather tough looking hombres and Chip all trussed up in Duct Tape. It seems as though Ray had hired some mercenaries to kill anyone who had known about the case so that he could fall completely off the grid and that they had been stopped by some of Harris' people. It had been building all morning and finally Tony just exploded, "Alright, just what the hell is going on here because none of this makes any sense."

"Like what Tony," Xander asked, honestly sounding confused.

"Who the hell is she," Tony asked immediately, pointing to Buffy.

"She's my best friend and a co-worker," Xander answered. Xander sighed, "the whole thing is kinda long and involved. To sum it all up, Ray was trying to completely fall off the grid while establishing a drug empire. But in order to do so he had to remove any unimpeachable evidence of his existence, like the ring box he gave Ziva that had his fingerprints. In order to do so, he hired men to come here and steal the evidence as well as knock off anyone who had seen it or made records of it. He also tried to personally kill Ziva and hired the doctor to create a hostage situation so that she was isolated. Since Ray was aware of NCIS and knew the people and tactics, I called in some of my people because they would not be suspected or planned for." Xander gave Tony a hard look, "that help clear it up for you?"

"Yeah," Tony said finally. "Thanks for that."

"No problem."

"Now that we're all on the same page," Gibbs said. "We need to bag the rest of the gang before they disappear into the woodwork." He and DiNozzo would take care of PO Mitchel's CO and whoever had replaced the dead Petty Officer, while Xander and Tim nabbed the coffin handler's at Andrews.

Tony was still a bit confused and had some serious questions about an organization that used young girls as operatives but there were bad guys to bust and that always made sense to him; even when little else did.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

They had stopped at a red light; Tim was driving them to Andrews Air Force Base while Xander checked his artillery, the FBI was being pissy about giving him back the Walther just because Ziva used it to defend herself and things just felt a bit off kilter. On the plus side, he was still carrying the Thompson so that made up for a lot. "Hey Xander?" Tim hesitantly called out.

"Yeah Tim," Xander replied, not looking up from his task.

"Does it bug you?" he asked.

"Does what bug me?"

"Training young girl's to fight the way your organization has?"

"Every minute of every day," Xander replied, finally looking at Tim.

For his part, McGee was surprised at the amount of sorrow in that gaze. He had thought about this conversation ever since he'd dated Maria. He wasn't entirely positive as to why he had decided that now was the time to ask about it, but there was no putting the genie back in the bottle now. "Then why do it?"

"Because there are things that need to be done and as much as I would love to take the burden off of each and every one of the girls, I can't be the one to do them. So I do what I can to make their lives as normal as possible, shoulder as much of the load as possible so that they don't have to and try to convince myself daily that I'm doing the right thing."

"And you're not going to be telling me what it is that you all deal with, are you?"

"I doubt you'll believe me but it's more for your protection than mine."

Tim thought about it for a minute or two and finally gave the one eyed man a rueful grin. "You're right, I don't believe you.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

For Ray Stewart, it was looking to be a busy day. Twelve bodies were due in today and three of them were 'specials'. He looked over at Jimmy, they'd been recruited at the same time by that Hispanic dude and been in the same spot ever since. He figured that the CO must be on the take but wasn't in on what was really going on because he'd never been down to lean on either of them for info; which was more than fine with Ray.

Off the clock he and Jimmy were pretty tight, but once they were on base, they were casual with each other but not tight. It was what the Hispanic dude had told them, if one got busted, they wouldn't connect him to the other guy. Ray figured that there had to be more than just the two of them working this scam but he never asked and slept better because of it.

Ray and his crew were preparing for the first delivery of the day when the two guys walked in. One looked kind of like a desk weenie in expensive clothes, the other guy looked like a hard ass of the first order; the dude even had an eye patch to complete the look. He heard the big guy ask the little one "heavy or light" but he didn't hear the answer. Then his day just went to hell.

The weenie looking guy held up a badge and shouted out, "This is NCIS; Senior Airman Ray Stewart and Airman First Class James Voskel, you are both under arrest."

Ray turned to run but found that he was looking down the barrel of a hand cannon that would have made Dirty Harry piss himself and the hard ass behind it with a smirk on the dudes face. "I've had a really shitty day, so please resist," he said. Ray was a little nuts at times, but he sure wasn't stupid so he just raised his hands and tried to look as meek as possible. That and he was working to keep from dropping a load into his pants. The hard ass just sighed and after thumbing the hammer and holstering the cannon, pulled out a pair of cuffs and snapped them on. Ray could see the weenie dude doing the same to Jimmy. The Hispanic guy must have ratted them out was all that was going through Ray's mind as they led him away.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

"Do you feel better now?" Tim asked as they were headed back to NCIS.

"No, but I'm getting there," Xander replied.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

After he had given out the assignments, he had gone back to Abby's lab, there was something he wanted the answer to.

"What is it Gibbs?" Abby asked. "Shouldn't you be out rounding up the last of the gang?"

"I've got a little project for you while we're gone," Gibbs replied.

"What is it?" Abby asked; the light of battle in her eyes.

Gibbs handed her the therapy ball from the rehab wing. "How fast would this have to be going to knock someone out?"

Abby looked at the spongy ball and then back at Gibbs. "You're kidding," she blurted out. Gibbs stayed silent and held her gaze. "You're not kidding," Abby finally allowed. She rolled the ball around in her hand for a second and then bounced it off the floor, "I'll get right on it," she said with a grin.

"What was that all about?" Tony asked once they were out of Abby's lab.

"Harris' blond friend knocked the hostage taker out with that, I'm just wondering how fast it had to be moving for that to happen."

"Are you serious," Tony asked. "That five foot nothing, maybe weighs 100 pounds if she's soaking wet girl knocked a man out with a nerf ball?"

"I saw it myself," Gibbs replied.

"It makes you wonder what would have happened if she'd used something harder," Tony finally said.

"It certainly does," Gibbs said as they headed for the car.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

As they walked into NCIS, Xander noted that there were a couple of visitors, both of whom he wanted to talk to. Sadly he had to take care of business first.

"They give you any trouble?" Gibbs asked.

"No, they didn't resist or anything," Xander replied with a fake frown. "I didn't get to shoot anyone or even give em a good butt kicking so now I'm all frustrated and grumpy." He then gave Gibbs his most sincere smile, "You want me to take their statements, they might lip off or something and give me an excuse." He asked this knowing that both prisoners were standing there listening to the exchange.

"Let's have McGee do it, but I'll make sure he knows to call you if we need to clear up some details," Gibbs replied with a wink, letting Harris know that he realized what the one eyed man was doing.

Xander just nodded, in a way he was glad that Gibbs had someone else taking the perp's statements because he had other business to take care of. He walked over to his desk to collect a few items and then proceeded on to his target. "Director David?"

"Yes Mr. Harris?"

"I believe that there are some issues of mutual interest that we need to discuss if you've got an hour or so free?"

Eli checked his watch out of habit, but he already knew what his answer would be. "Yes, I can spare you that."

"Excellent," Xander said in his best Mr. Burns voice. "If you would follow me then we can get started," Xander said and headed off to one of the conference rooms. He could tell that Eli was following and that the older man was a bit wary. 'Probably habit for him,' Xander thought. The walk was silent even when they got to the room. Xander closed the door as Eli sat; then he turned and looked at the older man. There were so many things that he wanted to say right now, but for whatever reason he just didn't know how to start. Sensing that Mr. David was getting impatient, he just opened his mouth and let fly.

"You know Eli, I don't know you but I do believe that I understand you."

"Truly?" Eli answered, both disdain and disbelief in his tone.

Ignoring that, Xander plowed on. "Yeah, you're like Odin."

This comparison threw Eli; it was something that he hadn't expected. "Oh, how so?"

"Well his position wasn't as rock solid as we would expect a God's to be. In order to keep things running he had to make deals with those he would rather not have to deal with and he carved those deals into his staff. Now on one level he was just doing what he had to do but underneath it all he knew that those deals were eventually gonna bite him in the ass. His hope was that when the time came to pay, the pain was worth the benefits."

"And how am I like this?" Eli wanted to know. Outside he was calm and indifferent but inside he was surprised, he hadn't expected such an unusual but profound insight, Xander had surprised him. It wasn't something he cared for.

"You make deals with some people that, all things being equal; you would rather just shove off the edge of the world. You do this because you need something that they have, whether it's information or resources or whatever; you do business with these less than savory people because it's business. Now you know that these deals could really hurt you, but you make them anyway because you hope that the reward will be worth the cost."

"Deals such as?"

"Such as the one you made with a warlord in Gabon," Xander threw out. He smiled to himself when he said this because the older man's reaction was everything that Xander would have hoped for and it confirmed what he'd gotten from the E-Mails. Eli David had indeed been the man who instigated the situation that had cost Faith her life.

Eli's heart froze when he heard this. He had of course suspected this but to have it confirmed was a bit of a shock. Then he realized something else, Harris was armed, probably heavily so; and he was alone, without his bodyguard and carrying only his service pistol. Eli understood that he was closer to death than he had been in some time, he would have to be much more cautious and polite than he was used to if he wanted to ever see his daughter again. "As you said, such things are business, something every country must do."

"True; and now is when the bill comes due." Xander picked up a file folder that he had brought with him and slid it across the table to Eli. "Could you read that please, it will take a few minutes?"

Eli just nodded and pulled on his reading glasses, unhappy proof that he was no longer young, and opened the folder. He read the story of Faith Lehane, and young woman from an unfortunate background that had made some mistakes but had eventually grown into a fairly remarkable person, if the file was to be believed. Some of the information about her childhood made his stomach turn a bit. Eli had been hard on his daughters, he would readily admit that; but he had never been deliberately cruel. He re-read a few bits and pieces, memorizing details so that he could independently verify this information later. Eventually he closed the folder and looked up. Harris had not moved the entire time, not even changed expression; it un-nerved Eli more than he was willing to admit.

"That was Faith, she was my fiancé," Xander said. "Now here's what happened in Africa." Xander told Eli about their partnership during the time they'd been in Africa. He edited everything about slayers and demons but he kept it as close to the truth as he could. Finally his story wound down and he leaned forward, suddenly very intense. "Now you know how she lived, I want you to know how she died." Here he took out a flash drive and plugged it into the laptop that was sitting on the table. "The whole thing took about ten hours; I've edited it down to twenty minutes for . . . . . . personal reasons. Just hit play and the waste can is over in the corner." With that he got up and left Eli in the room alone.

Eli saw that the file had completed loading and he reluctantly hit play. He knew that it was going to be bad; he'd seen bad before and even participated in bad from time to time when he was younger. This wasn't bad, it was horror. He managed to hold things together for the first ten minutes of the recording, but when the torch had been pulled out he knew that it was only a matter of time. Two minutes later his breakfast was in the conference room waste can and he was looking at the laptop with an almost superstitious dread like a pagan regarding an oracle that he knew would be unfavorable. Almost against his will, Eli walked back to the computer and hit play once more.

A few minutes later it was over, Eli sat there emotionally wrung out and covered in cold sweat. His breathing was just approaching normal when the door opened again and Harris walked in. There was no smile on his face, no smirk of triumph nothing to indicate that he took any pleasure in Eli's state.

"Now you know why I killed them all. All except one."

"You sent a message."

"Yep and no one else answered your calls after that, well whenever you were talking about the NSWC."

"True," Eli conceded. Then he looked at the one eyed man, "so what now?"

"Now," Xander said, musing over the word. "Now you go back to your world and I go back to mine and maybe in the future you think a bit more about the people you do business with and what information is crucial and what isn't."

"That is all, you want no pound of flesh?" Eli was instantly suspicious at this turn of events.

"No, that would be hypocritical of me," Xander replied. "Like I said before, I know about deals that bite you in the ass a lot harder than you expect. If I took vengeance on you then I would have to accept it from a lot more enemies than you have Mr. David." Here a wicked grin appeared on Xander's face. "Besides, after watching that I doubt you'll be sleeping well for a week or so and that's vengeance enough for me."

"And Ziva?"

"Ziva is free to do what she wants," Xander said. "I love her and I plan on asking her to come to work for the NSWC when I'm done here. She knows what it is that we do and is free to tell you if she chooses; there will be no threat of repercussions from anyone in my organization if she does. I hope that she won't spill the beans but I'm not going to forbid her from doing so."

Eli sat back and studied the younger man for a minute. He wasn't sure what it was that he was looking for, but he seemed to find it because he suddenly felt a lot better about Ziva being involved with this mysterious young man. "You are a good man Mr. Harris," Eli said, extending his hand. "I wish you worked for us."

"Sorry," Xander replied, taking the man's hand. "I like bacon too much," he said with a grin but then turned serious. "Once you retire from Mossad, give me a call when you get bored," Xander said, Eli a business card. "You're too clever a man to leave on the sidelines." He then got up and left, leaving Eli stunned and surprised yet again.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Xander gave a heavy sigh as he walked in his back door. It had been a hell of a long day and it was only mid-afternoon, shutting down an international drug ring wasn't a day at the park. After his chat with Eli, Xander had finished up the first layer of paperwork that was needed for the case and then had gone to the hospital to spend some time with Ziva. Now he was gonna take a shower and get some rest before he became no good to anyone. Then he froze, someone was in his house. His hand was reaching for his SuperRedhawk and he was looking everywhere for any sign of where the person might be when he took an exaggerated inhale through his nose. He paused again, "Hello Buffy."

"Have I ever told you how creepy it is that you know my scent?"

"Once or twice," he replied with a grin as Buffy walked into the kitchen from the front room. Xander held his arms open for her. "Thanks again for your help this morning," he murmured as he hugged her.

"You're welcome," Buffy replied burrowing her nose into his chest. Xander hugs were one of the best things in the world as far as she was concerned.

"So what brings you to my neck of the woods," he asked finally.

"You actually called and said that you wanted to talk and I know you prefer to do that face to face."

"True, but you didn't have to drop everything and jump over here in less than twelve hours."

"Rome was boring," was all Buffy said but Xander knew the signs.

"I take it that there's more debris on the Buffy relationship highway?"

"Yeah, she sighed, but we're talking about you now, not me."

"I don't mind," Xander honestly replied.

"I know," Buffy said, "but I also know that you're trying to weasel out of what you wanted to talk about by changing the subject."

Xander closed his eye; sometimes having a friend that knew him so well was a pain in the ass. "You got me," he said.

"So what's the big deal?"

"I've got to ask you a question, a question I should have asked a long time ago but I never had the guts to just ask it."

"That sounds ominous."

"Well, it's not your garden variety question."

"So are we just gonna stand here or do we need to get somewhere more comfortable, cause it doesn't sound like a one word answer question."

"The front room's good," Xander replied and they walked into the room and sat on opposite ends of the couch.

"Okay, shoot," Buffy said.

Xander took a deep breath and asked; "Why didn't you ever give me a shot?"

"Huh," Buffy responded, not sure that she had heard the question correctly.

"You've pretty much dated anyone with a Y chromosome that's crossed your path, Owen, Scott and Angel in high school; Parker, Riley, Spike afterwards and a fair few since Sunnydale; but I've been here the whole time and you never gave me the time of day when it comes to dating and I'm asking why?"

Buffy was nonplussed, in her wildest speculation she had not anticipated a question like this. "Why is this so important to you?" she asked, stalling for time.

Xander was a little torqued at her stall tactic but decided to answer her anyway. "Because it's been festering in the back of my mind since sophomore year," he began. "I honestly believe that not knowing the answer contributed to my relationships with both Cordy and Anya imploding. I care about Ziva more than any woman I've known since Faith died and I don't want to poison it with my insecurities so I have to know, WHY?" It came out a little more forcefully than he intended but that was okay with Xander.

"Are you sure you want to know?" Buffy stalled again.

"Want to, no I don't want to but I need to," Xander replied, getting angrier at Buffy's reticence.

She sighed heavily; this was a conversation that she never wanted to have. "At first there was Willow, she was so obviously into you that if I'd said yes then she wouldn't be able to see it as anything except a betrayal." Buffy looked up at Xander. "With everything that was going on in my life at the time I needed every friend I could get and I wasn't going to alienate my two best friends by trying to date one of them, I needed you both too much to risk that." She looked down again, "Then Angel came onto the scene." She held up a hand to stop any comment that Xander might make. "I've got a good idea about what you'd like to say right now and I've gotta admit that in retrospect I'd probably agree with most of it. But at the time I found him dark, mysterious and handsome and seeing him prevented me from facing any of the dilemmas that dating you would create."

Buffy looked up to see Xander's reaction but was disappointed to see that there was none, his face may have been carved out of stone for all the emotion that it showed. She stared at the carpet once more. "Because of those things, I considered you non-datable for our high school years. There were times I'd wonder but in the end I needed you so much as a friend that I wasn't gonna risk that by dating you." She looked him in the eye, "Not to mention the whole deal where you'd be a walking target if we were dating." She swallowed the lump in her throat, "I just couldn't do that to you."

"When I went to college, we all kind of moved apart. You had someone, so did Willow and I. We drifted apart the way people will after high school. Again, looking back on the whole thing; we kind of abandoned you and Giles there for a bit but we came back together when we needed to and I think we found out a lot about ourselves, kinda discovered our inner strengths during that time." She cleared her throat and got back on topic. "So you were with Anya and I was with Riley and even if I had thought about dating you, I wouldn't even want to consider what Anya would have done to me." Buffy looked up again and she could finally see an expression on Xander's face, it was a strange combination of sorrow and amusement. "After that, well . . . . ," Buffy trailed off.

"After that," prompted Xander. "I can understand your reasoning up until Glory, but that summer before the first where it was just you, me and Dawn; or after everything when we were getting everything going. We were both free, and I made an overture or two, but I got nothing from you; why?"

Buffy was in agony, she wished that he hadn't gone there, but he had. That was Xander, she briefly mused, always doing what you wished he wouldn't. Buffy didn't know if she could make him understand, but he was her friend so he deserved her best effort, no matter how much it might hurt. "Do you realize that everyone who said they loved me, everyone who I've really counted on has left me?"

Xander looked surprised, he hadn't expected an answer like this and wasn't sure about where Buffy was going with the whole thing, but he kept his mouth shut and listened.

"My dad, my mom, Giles, Angel, Spike, Riley, Willow, all said that they loved me at one time or another; all told me that I could count on them no matter what. But in the end, they all left me for one reason or another. There's one exception to this, one person who has maybe drifted a bit from time to time, but I could always count on him when I needed him; and that's you Xander. No matter what, you've always been there for me. And as much as I may have wanted to give us a try, in a couply kind of way, I was too scared to risk it."

"Scared," Xander broke in, "scared of what?"

"Of you leaving me as well," Buffy answered simply. "If you ever had, I doubt I'd still be here." Buffy thought a moment, "Scratch that, I know I wouldn't be here today if you ever walked out of my life." Buffy thought about stopping there but instead, went on. "I need you in my life, Xander. And if we started dating and things didn't work out, well there's a pretty good possibility of you not being there anymore and that is one of the two things in this world that I just can't risk." Buffy shut up finally, wondering if she'd said too much or not enough. She looked up and Xander was wearing his stone face again; Buffy wondered what it meant. Things were silent for about a minute, and then he stood up and walked towards her. Seeing this, Buffy stood up as well but she didn't know if she'd be kissed or punched; she figured that she kinda deserved both. As soon as she stood, Xander darted forward and wrapped her in a hug.

"Every time I think I've seen your best, you surprise me," he said. "That was one of the bravest things that I've ever seen."

"I don't understand," Buffy murmured, enjoying the Xanderhugs.

"Your greatest fear," Xander said. "You shared your greatest fear with me, knowing that I could turn around and hurt you with it. That is incredibly brave Buffy Summers and I want you to know that you'll always be my hero."

Buffy just smiled, tears rolling down her face. "I know you Xander, it wasn't that big a risk," she muttered.

"We'll agree to disagree on that one," he whispered back and then just held his best friend.

NCIS-BTVS-NCIS-BTVS

The two friends just hung out the rest of the afternoon, watched movies and took turns napping on the couch. They really didn't talk much because after the epic conversation that they'd had, there wasn't much left to say. After a light dinner Buffy said that she had an errand to run and headed out. After Buffy had left, Xander realized that there was someone he needed to talk to. Leaving a note just in case, he headed out as well.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It had been a hell of a day, and now Gibbs was winding down in his basement. His current projects included a rocking horse that a local charity was going to auction off. "You want anything to drink?" he called out as the shadowy figure came down the stairs.

"No thanks," Xander replied, finding a seat. "So how did things go?"

"We got most of the guys in Afghanistan and the folks we nabbed here flipped over on some of the distributors."

"Central Intelligence have anything to say about Ray?"

"Not a word," Gibbs replied.

"Is that buddy of yours at the FBI gonna give me back my Walther back any time soon?"

"I wouldn't hold my breath," Gibbs replied idly and then smiled at Harris' muted swearing. He was already looking forward to the next meeting between Harris and Fornel.

Silence descended and Gibbs just went about sanding the piece. Then he said, "Did you know your friend could throw a ball over one hundred and thirty miles an hour?"

"Doesn't surprise me," Xander replied. "She's a remarkable girl."

"And if her aim had been off by a quarter of an inch in any direction then the guy still would have been conscious?"

"Like I said, she's a remarkable girl."

"Are they all like that?"

"The others are good," Xander said quietly, "but she's the best". It was clear that Gibbs had put things together, but Xander was surprised that there wasn't more in the way of surprise or anger from the older man. Most people couldn't help the righteous indignation that came from the realization that there was an organization out there that let little girls do all the heavy fighting and those that could control themselves were dangerous in one way or another. Xander resolved right then and there to give Gibbs a bit of a deeper look.

Gibbs just nodded and went back to his work as silence descended once more on the basement.

"I'm gonna be leaving soon," Xander finally said.

"Figured that."

"I'm gonna ask her to come with me."

Gibbs paused and then went back to sanding, saying nothing.

"I didn't want to blind side you," Xander offered, as he stood up.

Gibbs just looked at the younger man for a moment or two, and even though he wanted to, he really couldn't object. If Ziva wanted to go with him, then that was her decision to make and Gibbs would be alright with it. Harris was a good guy and a good guy to have at your back. Gibbs was surprised to realize that he trusted the younger man to do what was best for Ziva and that his trust wasn't easily won.

Xander nodded at what he saw in Gibbs' face and walked over and picked up some sandpaper. Then he started on a part of the horse that needed some fine work. The two men worked in silence for about ten minutes and then Gibbs muttered, "If you hurt her, pray that I never find out."

Xander looked at the man without pausing what he was doing. "Understood," he finally replied.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Ziva woke suddenly, her senses on high alert. Years of training meant that her breathing didn't change as she made the transition from asleep to awake. Someone was in the room with her, someone who wasn't a nurse. Surreptitiously she reached for the snub nosed .38 that Tony had slipped her when he had visited. Her hand kept sliding and moving, any second now she would feel it.

"It's not there," a voice said off to her side. "By the way, nice job on keeping the breathing steady when you woke up, that's usually a dead giveaway."

"So what did give me away?" Ziva asked, giving up the act.

"Your shoulders tensed and your heartbeat jumped," was the answer she got.

Ziva rolled over in her bed and wasn't surprised to see the dim outline of Buffy Summers. The light in the bathroom was on although the door was closed and between that and the open curtains in Ziva's window, there was enough light for her to get by. She noticed the gun laying next to the sink on the far side of the room; Buffy knew that she'd seen it.

"You'll get that back when I leave, I promise," the blond told her.

"Why did you take it away?" Ziva asked. The Israeli was angry. Not only had someone snuck up on her and taken a weapon from under her pillow without her being aware, it was also clear that she was close to Xander from the way that they'd been behaving earlier and from comments that Maria had made. Ziva was not one usually prone to jealousy, but it fed on her anger and soon was threatening to almost overwhelm her.

"I just wanted to have a little time between us, without either weapons or nurses interfering," Buffy replied.

"So is this the part where you tell me to stay away from Alexander," Ziva asked.

Buffy looked incredulously at the woman for a moment. "What?" she finally managed to get out.

"You know, warn me off, tell me that I'm not good enough," Ziva paused. "Like a lawyer in a movie that tells the unsuitable person to leave their loved one alone." Ziva couldn't believe that she was actually referencing movies but it seemed appropriate right now. Later she'd blame both Xander and Tony for polluting her mind.

"No, I'm not here for any of that," Buffy said. She leaned forward and her gaze became intense, Ziva had the impression of a predator on the hunt. "I want you to understand that Xander and I are friends and only that. In a perfect world it would be more than that but we don't live in a perfect world now do we?"

Ziva shook her head and Buffy continued. "I know that relationships are complicated, and I'm not gonna tell you that if you hurt him I'll kill you, because hurting is part of any relationship; its gonna happen whether we want it to or not. But I will tell you this," here she became even more intense. "If you're using him, or playing him or toy with his emotions in any way, I won't kill you, but you'll wish that I had." She leaned back and the intensity bled off, "he's my best friend and I won't allow him to be hurt in that way."

Ziva just looked at the blond haired woman for a moment or two and thought about what she'd said. On one level, Ziva found it funny that someone would warn her away from playing games with someone's heart, considering that Ziva hated those kinds of games to begin with. Another part of her was relieved at the revelation that Buffy and Xander had never been an item and from the sound of it, never would be an item. There was a bit of trepidation because despite the cheerleader appearance, Buffy Summers struck Ziva as someone who would keep her word, to the letter. Then she thought about Maria and the local girls and realized that Buffy would have company if it was ever determined that Ziva was a target of interest. Finally there was appreciation. The fact that Buffy was here and threatening her spoke to the depth of the friendship that she and Xander shared.

"I would never do that to him," Ziva answered solemnly, looking Buffy in the eyes.

Buffy held Ziva's gaze for a moment and then just nodded and just like that, a dangerous young woman vanished and a fairly light hearted person was in her place. "So what do you want to know about his high school years?" Buffy asked.

"What?" Ziva wasn't sure how the conversation had taken such a radical turn.

"I figure you could probably use some prime blackmail material," Buffy said with a smirk. "So what would you like to know?"

Ziva's grin was answer enough.


End file.
